|
"Take a Chance"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: No, they are not mine. And I’m
not stealing them. I’m just permanently borrowing them for an
undefined stretch of time. Rating: NC-17 Warnings: lemon, AU, Romance, 3x4, slight angst (which I fix!) Pairings: 3x4x3 Summary: Quatre literally runs into the man of
his dreams but life isn't all plain sailing. Author’s Notes: Hiya, my fellow otaku! Our
favorite blonde showed up earlier last week and started stalking me
until I wrote all of this. It’s the entire thing, but of course
I have to cut it up to email it to you all. Enjoy! //phone conversations//
"Take a Chance " Chapter Two: Ready or not… The first duty of love is to listen.
I waited until six before I called him. After all, I didn’t want to seem too eager. *ring* Okay, how do I open this conversation? *ring* Of course, that might be a moot question if Trowa didn’t answer— //Yes?// “Hi! It’s Quatre.” And I really hope that you’re more vocal on a phone— //Hello, Quatre.// Did I detect a slight note of happiness? Or was that lustful, er, wishful thinking on my part? “Hello yourself. So did you have something in mind?” There was this little hitch. //Not really. I don’t know anything about your tastes.// Hm. “What kind of music do you like?” //Anything but rap.// “Well that’s certainly an eclectic taste. I’ve got two tickets to a Hoobastank concert tomorrow. How does that sound?” It’s weird, but I actually felt him relax. //Sounds good. Where is it?// We talked logistics for a bit, then Iria started yelling for me. “Curses, I have to go. I’m not sure—do you want to drive or shall I plan on hiding my keys?” //Hide your keys?// Trowa repeated in amusement. “Yes, hide my keys. Everyone here likes my car better than theirs, so they usually steal it.” //I can drive.// And I had the feeling that it would make him feel better to be in control of this, ah date for lack of a better word, which was fine. I quickly gave him my address. Iria started yelling at me again. “Hold on a moment, will you?” Popping my head out of my bedroom door, I glared at her. “Do you mind? I’m trying to set something up here.” “Dad wants you on the phone.” I muttered another curse. I hate talking to my father on the phone. We usually end up cursing and arguing. I’d much rather talk to Trowa. “Fine. Trowa? Sorry, my Dad’s on the land line.” //That’s fine. I’ll pick you up at five, alright?// “Sounds great. Later.” *click* I think Iria inherited her sense of bad timing from Dad. It’s the only way to explain why they were both interfering with my love life so well. I mean, for the past two years I hadn’t been able to even flirt just because of where I was most of the time: school. If you ever want to get into a world of trouble, try being a gay seventeen year old in a Catholic private school. Making my way back into my bedroom I picked up the phone on my desk. “Yes?” //Whatever happened to ‘hello’?// Oops. Must have picked that up from Trowa. “It’s old hat. I’m trying out new greetings. What did you need to talk about?” //I’m not going to be back on schedule. They’ve asked if I would stay for another two weeks. I expect you to take care of things.// Like always. I used my exquisite control over my emotions to refrain from slamming the phone back on the receiver. “Understood, sir.” //Quatre…this isn’t an order.// “Yes it is. And I’ll fulfill my duties, as always. Anything else?” There was a sigh on the other end. My father never understood why his absence bothered me. I chalked up that incomprehension to the fact that he’s never in this madhouse for more than a week or so at a time. //Yes. Are you dating anyone?// Not yet. Unbidden, a smile started flirting around my mouth. I didn’t let that smile into my voice. “No.” //Quatre, you need to start going out more.// “I am. Actually, a friend and I are going to a concert tomorrow.” //Is this friend a man?// No, I’ve never told my father that his only son doesn’t like playing rough with girls. Frankly, it’s none of his business. But I think he suspects. “Yes, it is.” //Why don’t you find a girl to take instead?// “Father, I will not argue this point with you. I need friends that are guys as much as I need friends that are girls. And besides, there aren’t any girls in my acquaintance that I would willingly spend more than ten minutes with.” He knew at least when to let the subject drop. //Fine. Just try to find a girlfriend, at least, alright? I must go. Kiss your mother for me.// Click. I was surrounded by females twenty-four/seven. Why on earth would I want to pursue a female and add more to that number? No, thank you. Besides, there was this tall, gorgeous, quiet enigma that I would much rather puzzle out. Humming a little under my breath, I turned to finish off whatever homework that I had left before going to bed. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow. + Trowa arrived exactly at five. I didn’t even have enough time to pace before I saw his car pull into the drive. I was all ready to go so I flew out of the house and into the passenger seat of the Honda before he could even get his seatbelt off. “Punch it, quick, before they can catch me!” Trowa threw me a startled look and put the car into reverse. “Your parents did approve of this, didn’t they?” “Of course they did. But if we don’t leave now, then my mother and sisters will pull you inside, pet you and fawn all over you, and it will go on for hours and we’ll not only miss the concert, but I won’t get you to myself either.” “Hn.” From now on, I’m going to talk to Trowa as much as I can face to face. There’s just so much that I miss over a phone. Trowa speaks more with his body than with actual words. Which is fine, in a way, because I can talk enough for two people. You try living in a household of thirteen women and try getting a word in edgewise. Right now that body language was saying that he was glad to see me, happy to be going out where there won’t be any terrorizing females that he has to be polite to, and just as happy that he’s driving and I’m talking. How do I know this, you ask? No clue. It’s just the vibe that I was getting watching him. I spent the hour drive to the concert slowly prying information out of him, in a very subtle and discreet manner. By the time that we got there, I knew that he had an older ( by four months) step-brother named Heero, both of his parents were in the navy, and the two brothers were usually left to fend for themselves in a house for months on end. It sounded like heaven to me. No females, no parents, and a house that I could party in…yup, definitely paradise. I also knew that he enjoyed cooking, gymnastics—I knew he worked out!—and didn’t really care much for TV. In fact, he had to think for a moment to even remember if they had one. Okay, any ideas that I might have entertained involving dates to a movie were scratched off the list. The line to get into the concert was impressive. I had special tickets, so it was cut down to about a fifteen minute wait for us. The concert hall inside was of an interesting build. There were rows upon rows of chairs, of course, but there was also a fairly large section of floor right in front of the stage that had been left open. I eyed that section of floor and imagined all the purposes that I could put to it. Some of them I had to discard because they wouldn’t be practical—or legal—in public, but that didn’t mean I had to discard all of them… “Trowa, do you enjoy dancing?” He smiled slightly. “Quite a bit.” Boy, he really was relaxed with me. And the reason why I know that is because he used more than one word to answer me. “Good. I get the feeling that this concert promotes the audience to join in.” Trowa turned to look at the open flooring and nodded. “It does appear that way. Should we sit near the floor?” In other words, was I interested in joining in on the fun? You betcha. “Excellent plan. Not too near the speakers, though, I’d like to keep some of my hearing for my old age.” Some people didn’t even bother sitting down. They went straight to the floor and stood there, chatting with friends. I was carrying on a decent conversation with Trowa, as well. He was rather like a diesel engine; hard to get going, but once he was in motion there was nothing to worry about. Part of the time, however, I was deflecting looks of interest (from guys and girls alike) in his direction. My date. I didn’t really mind them looking, but some of them wanted more than just to look, and I don’t share. There were some sounds of guitars being strummed, tuned, and the crowd turned toward the stage in expectation. Hoobastank came onto the stage a few minutes later, launching into the first song without any introductions on their part. The beat was irresistible. I stood up, dragging Trowa with me, and gave us enough room to move. Okay, I admit that I was taking shameless advantage of this situation. I was dancing a bit more daringly than I usually do. I wanted to know just where Trowa stood. I swung my hips, rotated to the beat, making my whole body an open invitation. To my delight, Trowa took me up on it. He moved to stand behind me, putting a hand on my hip and matching his movements to mine. Hot dog! I twisted about, deliberately stepping close enough to rub my hips against his. He dropped both hands to my waist, moving them up and down slowly as he returned that gesture. Mmm…oh yeah, did that ever feel good. I curled an arm around his neck, another around his shoulder and grinned like a Cheshire cat. The song ended, and another was struck up almost as quickly. I barely noticed, truthfully. Everything in my body was completely attuned to Trowa. I leaned up to murmur in his ear, “You look sexy tonight.” And he did, in that dark green shirt and black skin-tight jeans. He bent a little to return the compliment. “You look like a fallen angel.” Huh. I probably did. I was in pure black, the shirt a light polyester blend and a pair of pants that not only fit me to the tee, but let me move as well. I look good, and I know it. But I’m even more glad that he knows it. I grinned up at him, not losing the beat, not losing contact with the hard body against mine. Naturally, I’m a tactile kind of person. The result of having tons of sisters, I guess. But there was something about the way that Trowa touched me that made my nerves sing merrily and do little capers of joy. I’ve had people touch me before like they expected me to enjoy it, or to let them just because. Trowa touched me like I was cherished, as if he never expected to be able to touch me, and wasn’t taking it for granted. From the moment that I had laid eyes on him I wanted him. Halfway through the concert, I was determined that I wasn’t going to let him go for anything. It had become more than lust. I wanted to know everything about this man, and have a place in his heart, and his life. That was a bit more than you can say on a first date, though. I had to bide my time a little, at least. Our attention was diverted from time to time when the band on stage did some crazy stunts, pulled a couple of pranks, and told some jokes. It never lasted long, though. During the slow songs, I held Trowa close enough to feel his heartbeat. During the faster songs, I enjoyed rubbing up against him and doing crazy moves to get a smile or laugh out of him. At ten o’clock, when the concert ended, he was smiling and laughing freely. I never wanted the night to end. As we walked back to his car I was still dancing, to the music playing in my head. “That was too much fun!” “Is there such a thing?” He was watching me, smiling in amusement. “Um, maybe not. But if there is, then that definitely qualifies! So, where to next?” Trowa eyed his watch. “A little late for dinner. How about dessert?” “Sugar? Great idea. I think there’s a Coldstone near here.” “Hn. Get in.” That, in case you were wondering, was the third ‘Hn’ all evening. I counted. We went to Coldstone, ate too much icecream, and talked until they kicked us out. It was nearly midnight by that point. Trowa—reluctantly, I think—took me home. Again, this was a first date, so I wasn’t pushing my luck. I was actually very lucky to get by with everything that I had so far. So I only hugged him across the divider in the car and winked at him. “Later, gorgeous!” Then I watched him drive off, letting myself back into my house with firm intentions to somehow spend some more time with him before Monday hit. It was only Friday—okay, since it was one in the morning, it was actually Saturday—so the odds were in my favor. I have an entire day and a half to think up an excellent strategy and sneak out of the house. Then I climbed into bed and dreamt of Trowa, a big four-poster bed, and a can of whip cream. ~ * ~ |
