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"Drunken Idiots and fire should not mix"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, Pairings: 3x4 Summary: Prompt BBQ--- and roasting? So ....It
jumped to campfire! I’m sorry! "Drunken Idiots and fire should not mix" Quatre blurrily heard the last of the frat boys drawling off to the bushes. He still could not BELIEVE their camping trip had been ruined by the ‘friends’ that Dorothy’s cousin’s boyfriend brought along. Quatre would not have been excited about this end of finals trip had he known it would be more then their little group. And he probably would not have gone at all had he known that the ‘friends’ were a whole fraternity of drunken idiots. But the last of them had just gone off... to go jump off a cliff for all he cared. All that was left was the soft chirping of crickets and the snapping of the fire. The fire!?! Those DRUNKEN IDIOTS! There was no human sounds coming from the fire pit. No one else was awake...except him. The words of smoky the bear echoed in his head ‘only you can prevent forest fires’ and no matter how exhausted he was, he forced his limbs to work and push him out of his warm cuddly sleeping bag and out into the cold dark night. He tried to throw some dirt on the roaring fire...but it was mostly all hard-packed around him, and he wasn’t about to go for the 10 minute walk down to the beach just to get sand... Amongst the empty liquor bottles were a few half empty water bottles, and he up-ended them over the fire... it killed it...a little. Quatre sighed and sunk to a lawn chair. He’d have to watch it and make sure it didn’t burn them all down. “This is just friggan’ perfect,” he murmured. “Nice try.” An equally sleepy sounding voice said, moving into the circle of illumination. The guy was tall, and sinfully cut. He was wearing tight jeans and nothing but a white undershirt. Hanging from his hand was a beer cooler. The guy, whom Quatre had never formally been introduced to, yawned once and then pulled out a bottle of beer from the case, then another, and put them on the picnic table between himself and Quatre. The guy didn’t look like he even wanted a drink, so Quatre didn’t understand until the man took a few more steps into the light (revealing bare feet and face like a greek god: all angles and planes, complimented with a sweep of sexy cinnamon hair over one side). The guy tipped the melted ice straight into the fire, making it hiss in its death throws. It went practically black, and Quatre sighed in relief as the prospect of actually getting to sleep flitted into his brain. But he settled into the chair with a sigh as the steamy smoke cleared and the embers remained orangey-bright. “I’ll wait for it, you can go to bed.” That sexy voice offered. The man collapsed bonelessly into the lawn chair next to Quatre, yawning heartily and looking blearily at the fire. “If I leave you’re gonna fall asleep and fall right into the damn pit,” Quatre murmured, a little smile lighting the corners of his mouth. The guy had a twisting tattoo on his bicep-- two clef notes, winding around each other. The man yawned again and surveyed the little blonde, “I supposed I wouldn’t mind the company. Are you sure, you looked tired all night. You came with Hilde and Doro, right? ...Quatre?” Quatre grinned, “Yeah, that’s me? How’d you know?” The guy suddenly blushed and waved Quatre’s question off, “You were just...mentioned.... I’m Trowa, by the way.” Trowa held out his hand in formal greeting. Quatre leaned over and took that hand, shaking gently over the dying embers of the campfire, and starting a new spark, “And I’m Quatre. Pleasure to meet you.”
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