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"Baby it’s cold outside"Written By: Dentelle_noir Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing AC or the
characters. GW belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. This
is a work of fiction and written for fun, not profit Rating: PG 13 Warnings: AU, Yaoi Pairings: 3x4 Summary: Quatre had no idea when he stepped out
of his Christmas party to catch a cab that a chance meeting just might
make his Christmas a little bit more merry this year. "Baby it’s cold outside"
A light dusting of snow was falling, just enough to
set the mood and make Quatre think of Christmas... he was lucky to
have a family in town, because he would be spending it alone this
year if it wasn’t for family. Even still, he would be mostly
alone for the cold nights, but, what else was new? He could still hear the strains of the smooth Christmas
jazz playing from the high-end restaurant behind him where the company
he worked for was holding its Christmas party. The food had been delicious
and the wine had been free, but Quatre got out of there before things
got too crazy. He wasn’t in the mood for a wild party, really.
He wanted to go home, curl up by the space heater and maybe have a
hot cocoa or something while watching reruns. On his way out he noticed
one of the secretaries about to start table-dancing, and he knew he
was time to catch a cab. The last bars from the music flowed out, humming “baby
it’s coooold outside” and Quatre shivered. Yes, Yes it was.
It was fucking freezing actually. The wind was biting, making Quatre’s
skin turn pink already! Quatre pulled the long beige coat closer to his body
and stuck his hand out to wave for the taxi he saw coming that way.
“Taxi!” he heard a voice call from about a
block ahead of him. A man was standing there in all black clothes,
the door from a nearby club closing just behind him. He must have
just run outside and saw the cab. The taxi missed the first man by
a few feet and stopped somewhere between Quatre and the clubber. Quatre moved quickly towards the cab, not wanting to
stay out in the biting cold any longer than he needed to! Unfortunately, the other man thought the same thing.
They both grabbed for the cab’s door handle at the same time...
A moment passed where they sized each other up for a
second. The other man could have kicked Quatre’s ass with little
effort. He was at least a foot taller and had broad shoulders encased
in a thin black corduroy jacket and the rest of him was dressed in
tight leather pants and a pair of black loafers. He looked perfect
for a dark club atmosphere, sure, and...was that GLITTER stuck in
his hair? But with no boots, that short little jacket and wearing
leather pants, Quatre knew he must have been freezing. Quatre had
been caught like that before after clubbing, and knew what it was
like. He felt sorry for the other man and smiled warmly, “Go
ahead, you look cold. I’ll wait. Merry Christmas.” The other man looked surprised, and shook his head no,
making more warm brown hair with red highlights fall over his eyes
as it loosened from behind his ear to completely cover one side of
his face now. “No no, you were here first. Thank you anyway and
Merry Christmas to you.” he hummed. His voice sounded like warm
caramel, deep and smooth and sending shivers down Quatre’s spine.
The man grabbed the cab door and opened it for Quatre, gesturing him
to go in. Quatre, though, noticed the man was already shivering.
He didn’t even have gloves. But clearly he had pride. Quatre had to think quickly, “How about we share?”
he suggested, “Get in, we’ll split the cab fare. Are you
going east?” The other man smiled at that, and then stepped back
from the door to let Quatre in first (and stuck his hands into his
pockets quickly, probably trying to warm them after contact with the
metal of the cab door. Sliding into the warm cab, Quatre undid his jacket and
told the cabbie the plan. He seemed alright with that, turning to
look at the two of them. The cabbie lifted a brow between the unlikely
pair, but shrugged. What the hell, right? “Where to?” Quatre told the driver his address, and then the other
man laughed. “Two blocks away from my place. I suppose sharing
was a good idea.” The stranger chuckled, smirking a little. He
pulled his hands out and stuck them near the little vents at the door
to warm them. “It must be fate” Quatre replied with a smile,
buckling up and letting the driver go on his way. “It must be,” The man agreed, relaxing into
his seat, “I’m Trowa, by the way. Trowa Barton.” “Quatre Winner.” Quatre said with a smile,
extending his hand. Trowa took the hand and shook it gently. Quatre noticed
how COLD his hands were. It was probably a very good thing that he
had invited Trowa to share the cab. At least it was warm! The radio was playing Christmas songs and for a moment
they listened, but, one could only hear Rudolf so many times before
wanting to kill themselves, so Quatre was the first to break the quiet,
“Were you out tonight? I didn’t see where you came from.” Trowa smiled warmly, “Yes, I was at a bar. No reason,
really. Some friends were going. I like dancing. You?” Quatre flicked his eyes to the new man, and let his
eyes linger just a moment longer. He sure looked like he would be
a good dancer. He had a way about him that reminded Quatre a little
of a cat, and just watching the man cross his legs in the confined
area of the taxi backseat was a study in fluid grace. When Quatre’s
eyes flicked up to the man’s face—all angles, with a sharp
nose and full lips—Quatre noticed that the man was watching him
too, but with a sort of questioning. “Have I met you before?” Trowa finally asked,
as if trying to pin down where, “You look vaguely familiar.” Quatre blushed just a little, thinking that he would
have remembered a man as handsome as Trowa. “Perhaps you met
one of my sisters, I look just like them, and I have three in this
city.” Trowa seemed to nod, thinking perhaps that was it. “So,
where did you come from?” Trowa asked to keep conversation going
(and to drown out the annoying tone of the obnoxious children’s
version of some carol). “An office Christmas Party,” Quatre revealed
with a weary sort of tone that said ‘dear lord I did not want
to be there, it was a circus, and I’m glad that It’s done’. Trowa laughed brightly, “Was anyone lap dancing?” “Almost! I’m telling you! It was crazy!”
Quatre added in, getting a little laugh out of it now that he was
out of there and in the back of a warm taxi with a handsome stranger.
“I’m glad to be gone, but it was a fun night.” Quatre
didn’t really want the other man to pry more, so he switched
the topic, “But probably not as fun as yours...You’ve got
some glitter there...” he hummed, reaching out and retrieving
a green star-shaped piece of confetti from his hair, smirking teasingly.
Okay, maybe it was a little bit flirting, but, Quatre had a few glasses
of wine... and it was harmless! Trowa shrugged with a little smirk on his face, and
leant in a little, “To be honest, I didn’t have the best
night. This is better. I enjoy good company.” Was that teasing back? Maybe the man was drunk, or...Quatre
dared not to hope, but, maybe he was flirting too? Probably not! Quatre
shouldn’t let his mind get away with him, but, he couldn’t
stop the gentle little blush from spreading to his cheeks and the
pleased little smile from coming to his lips. Trowa’s brows lifted suddenly and he grinned brightly,
“I remember you now! I met you a few weeks ago! I tried to buy
you a drink, at Mariposa. That’s where I saw you! I knew I knew
you!” Quatre blushed just a little more. The cab driver, who apparently preferred ease-dropping
to old Christmas carols, piped up, “I thought Mariposa was the
gay bar—“ he had looked back to his clients as he spoke,
and took one look at Trowa’s hair styled over his face and Quatre’s
babyface and then shut his trap and went back to driving. “Yes... I remember now... I tried to buy you a
drink, and you were in the process of politely turning me down when
a brute walked over and pushed me out of the way. Boyfriend?”
He asked, his brow lifting and his tone unimpressed. Quatre flicked his eyes over to the handsome stranger.
He could have lied and had an easy out, but Quatre didn’t really
want an easy out at all. He wanted an in. And he wanted to keep Trowa
talking and flirting with him. “Ex boyfriend. We broke up shortly
after that. He was always picking fights with people, and I didn’t
like it at all. I like men who have manners...Like holding open doors
and offering cabs to other people,” he added in, blushing just
a bit more. Had he pushed too far? Apparently not. Trowa’s little smile was turning
absolutely wicked. He leaned a little closer, his knee brushing Quatre’s
just gently where they both leaned towards the middle seat, “Do
you have another man now? Or are you single, like me?” Oh that was smooth. Quatre had to applaud, really. Trowa
was a smooth talker, and while that usually raised alarm bells, tonight
it was only raising Quatre’s interest. Before Quatre could answer, though, the cab began to
slow and slide over to the side of the road. Quatre’s housing
complex waited for him to come home... the serendipitous meeting in
the taxi cut short. “Thirty ten,” The driver said, turning
to the two of them. Quatre went to his pocket, as did Trowa. But before
the taller man could pay, Quatre was already handling it with a smirk
(and a huge tip). Trowa looked pleasantly surprised, but he kept looking
around in his pocket—probably for some paper to give Quatre his
number. They had hit it off so well, it would have been a total
shame to say goodnight now... Trowa looked to the driver, “I’ll
walk him to the door, and then I’ll be right back. Don’t
leave. It’s cold out there.” Sucking up his courage, Trowa pushed open the cab door,
feeling the blasting cold all across his body, freezing his leather
pants almost on contact. He hoped that of all these little row-houses
in the complex that Quatre lived at one close to the street! It was
damn cold. He hadn’t noticed inside the cab, but already the
light dusting of snow that had been falling was becoming heavier now,
the wind whipping the innocent little flakes into sharp ice pellets
that made Trowa regret being a gentleman almost instantly. But the pleased look Quatre gave him as he slid out
of the cab was enough to set Trowa’s blood on fire. Trowa was
definitely going to score a second date for this. The meter in the cab kept running, but Trowa didn’t
hurry Quatre along. He stayed in step up the (way too friggan LONG)
walkway, trying not to slip on the ice forming a thin crust over the
cement, painting the way with white and silver. “I had a good
time talking to you,” Trowa said, his hands in his pocket for
a little warmth. Smiling, Quatre blushed, “I had a really good time,
too...” Quatre took the path winding towards the back houses,
wondering what else to say to the man. Trowa was cursing his chattering
teeth and rapidly reddening nose. It was freezing, and quickly turning
into miserable weather. Quatre felt terrible! Once Trowa dropped him
off, he was going to have the make this trek back, too... Why did
Quatre have to live so far back in the complex when it was this cold
and a sexy underdressed man was volunteering to walk him home?! Passing the flickering Christmas lights of a neighbour,
Quatre walked the two of them towards a little attached row of houses
near the very back. Quatre walked up to the only door with the outside
light still on and pulled out his keys, fiddling with them nervously.
He hadn’t had a man walk him home in a while, and Trowa was something
else. Quatre really liked him. A lot. He knew it was fast to be liking
someone this much, but, the serendipity of it all was appealing to
Quatre’s romantic side, and everything about Trowa that he’d
learned and seen so far was pointing to Trowa being a sincere and
truthful guy. Quatre was falling hard for him. He wanted a kiss, but,
it was hard to screw up the courage to ask... But as he looked over at the taller man again, he was
looking rather frustrated...and really, really cold. “Why don’t you unlock the door, and I’ll
say goodbye inside, away from the cold?” Trowa tried to sound
charming and not shivering. Oh Crap! He had to stop thinking so long and actually
DOING something! Quatre hurried to unlock the door, blushing in embarrassment!
He hadn’t been thinking, of COURSE Trowa must have been cold!
He opened the front and turned on the foyer light, letting Trowa in
to warm up a bit. Trowa brought his hands up to his mouth, breathing on
them to return the feeling to his fingers and then spoke, “I
want to see you again. Maybe I can give you my number, we can go out
for dinner?” he suggested, getting to the punch before the cabbie
decided he wasn’t going to stay any longer and left Trowa there
in the snow. Quatre blushed, nodding, “I’d like that....”
Trowa smiled warmly (a start contrast from the red nose
he was getting) and looked around the foyer of the little house, “Get
me a piece of paper and I’ll give you my number, and then you
can call me tomorrow.” Quatre nodded and ran off towards his kitchen, and rummaged
through the junk drawer. A pencil and paper was all he needed... And
then Trowa would leave. Thinking about that, Quatre’s heart dropped a little.
He didn’t want Trowa to go... Instead of a pen and paper, Quatre retrieved something
else from his cupboards, and took a deep breath, hoping he could pull
this off... ~*~ Two wine glasses were in Quatre’s right hand and
a bottle of red wine in his other as he walked back to the foyer.
He tried not to look nervous, but it was hard. He knew that if he
wanted to keep Trowa here he had to make the moves. Trowa had already
shown he was very interested, and Quatre had apparently turned him
down once before. Turnabout was fair play after all, and Trowa had
been hitting on him hard since they got into the taxi. It was time
for Quatre to show his intentions. Trowa looked at the glasses and at the little blush
Quatre had on his cheeks. “...no pencil?” he asked with
a teasing sort of smile. But his body language was closed; the taller
man’s arms crossed over his chest and choosing to stand close
to the door. He was probably still very cold and thinking that he
didn’t have time to have a drink before the cabbie left him there,
having to walk home. “You should come in,” Quatre surprised himself
as that came out of his mouth. Trowa looked surprised, not expecting that at all. Actually,
Quatre hadn’t expected that either! But he had said it now, and
he had to continue. “For a drink. The one you offered to buy
me a few weeks ago, you know?” The taller man seemed to think over what he was going
to do. “I’d like to, but, I really should go... The cab
meter is running, and, at this hour, out here, I’ll never get
another one...” Quatre stepped a little closer. Trowa had been so smooth
in the cab, but now he wasn’t as sure. Maybe he was wondering
if Quatre was some crazy axe murderer, or married, or just worried
about how he would pay the cab fare for when he eventually went back.
But it was Quatre’s turn to show he could be smooth too. “It’s really cold outside....” he said,
flicking his eyes outside. The wind and snow was quickly turning into
a near-blizzard, and Quatre knew that Trowa would not be looking forward
to walking out there again, “I’ve got blankets, and a space
heater... Just have a glass of wine with me? I owe you, remember?” Trowa did remember that...and he cracked a little smile...
“Okay, one drink... a fast one. The cabbie will probably wait
at least THAT long...” YES! Quatre was doing a little happy dance in his head,
but he managed to conceal that behind an excited smile. Quatre walked towards the living room, turning on the
little furnace-looking space heater and putting the glasses down.
He handed Trowa the bottle with a smile, “Can you pop the cork?” Trowa took the bottle and peeled the wrapping. Quatre
handed him a cork screw, and Trowa dug it in, twisting it out in no
time at all. Knowing that Trowa was strong like that gave Quatre
shivers. Quatre was more of a brain than a brawn, and he always had
a hard time with corks, having to rock and yank and use those little
bottle openers on the side of the screw to get them out. Trowa just
yanked. And then he took the bottle and poured each of them a short
glass of wine. It was sexy in a way Quatre could barely explain. Trowa took a seat beside Quatre on the couch, “So,
you like wine?” Quatre took his glass and sipped it gently before answering,
“It was a gift. I like wine, yes, but I tend to get a lot of
bottles of wine from co-workers and staff around Christmas.”
Not that small talk wasn’t good, but this wasn’t going to
get him where he wanted to get... Quatre slid a little closer, letting his wine glass
dangle from his fingertips. Trowa wasn’t stupid, he knew where this was going.
But he leaned away with a tiny smile, “I really should go...
But thank you for the wine. You’re welcome has been so nice and
warm.” Crap that sounded like a goodbye. Actually... it sounded
like a song. Quatre had heard that one not too long ago... Persistence! He had to remember to be persistent! Quatre
smiled slightly and leaned in. If Trowa could be smooth, so could
Quatre, “But look out the window at that storm? I’ve never
seen such a blizzard before.” Okay that was stretching it, but, it didn’t seem
that Trowa was placing where Quatre was getting his words from yet.
It made the game fun. The taller man flicked his eyes towards the window,
and yes, it was snowing but not THAT bad! “I should get home.
The cab is going to cost me a fortune...” “But baby, you’ll freeze out there.” Trowa’s brow lifted... and then he laughed gently,
catching on. He leaned in towards Quatre, “Say, lend me a coat,”
he hummed. His baritone was soft and warm like molasses. Quatre laughed, and then sang as well, “It’s
up to your knees out there...” “You’ve really been grand,” Trowa purred
back, sipping at his wine glass a little more, singing the popular
Dean Martin song. Quatre had the next part to say, and he blushed a little,
“I thrill when you touch my hand...” That wasn’t exactly true. Trowa hadn’t touched
him yet. Not when they were exchanging glasses, or even when they
were in the tight confines of the cab. “God! You’re hands are like ice!” Quatre
could feel them against his flesh. He knew Trowa had been cold walking
him to the door, but this was crazy. He grabbed both of Trowa’s
hands and put them together, rubbing Trowa’s hands within his
own. “...thanks for the compliment....” Trowa drawled
sarcastically, a touch embarrassed over it all. Quatre brought Trowa’s hands up to his mouth and
then breathed on them, letting his breath warm the tips of Trowa’s
fingers, and kept rubbing them together. Trowa was leaning in so close now that their knees were
bumping together as they both shifted positions on the couch. “I...really
should go...” he said once more, but, it sure didn’t sound
to Quatre like he much wanted to go. It was now or never. Quatre extended his leg a little—now,
their knees were touching on purpose. He put Trowa’s hands down
so he had a clear line-of-sight towards Trowa’s face. Quatre’s
grip tightened just a little on Trowa’s hands in his nervousness,
but he didn’t flinch any other way. He pushed forward and pressed
a gentle, near-chaste kiss to the taller man’s lips. “Don’t go... Just...Listen to my space heater
roar...” He hummed, remembering the song again and blushing gently. Trowa leaned forward, closing his eyes this time, and
moved in for another kiss. He slid his body close, his hands moving
to slide around Quatre’s waist to pull him closer... His hands
weren’t cold anymore. Quatre smiled around the kiss and relaxed. His hands
moved up to touch Trowa’s hair gently, entwining in the strands
as he let the taller man take over control. He liked the way Trowa
took care of him...even in kisses. Slow, and soft, and so warm. Quatre
was lost in the feel of Trowa’s talented lips against his... Until Trowa broke the kiss. He pushed strands of hair
out of Quatre’s face, searching his face, “I really should
go...” he said softly...reluctantly... Trowa thought about the cab waiting...the storm outside...and
the warmth here in Quatre’s arms... The decision was easy. He guided Quatre to lay down on the couch before giving
him another soft, warm kiss... “Well, maybe just a half a drink
more...” Quatre grinned, and wrapped his hands tighter around
Trowa’s neck. There was no way Trowa was leaving tonight now.
He’d landed him now. Maybe Christmas wouldn’t be such a
‘family’ affair this year after all... ~~~~~~~~~~ Outside, the cab driver scanned the job postings in
the classified ads. He had turned the meter off when the taller guy
left. He wasn’t stupid. He didn’t think he was coming back,
but, he decided to wait another 20 minutes...JUST in case the guy
did come back out. He didn’t want to leave him stranded in that
storm. It was Christmas, after all.
Merry Christmas From Dentelle_Noir! Please, share the Christmas joy with a review! It’s the only way an author knows if you appreciated their hard work writing the fic! Even just one that says “Happy Holidays!” lets me know you read it! Thank you!!
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