misanagi: (Fiction)
[personal profile] misanagi

Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: Heero/Quatre
Rating: G
Summary: Heero works backstage but somehow manages to catch the eye of a star violinist.
Words: 1500

For [livejournal.com profile] keitn

The soft strands of a violin filled the auditorium as Heero was busy recalibrating the lights for the next show. Sound check wasn't supposed to be for another couple of hours. Actually, it was lunch hour and since it was warm outside Heero decided to just eat a sandwich while he finished with some of the settings.

He put his laptop down, moved amongst the mess of cables to the railing where he could look down at the stage. A blond man was standing in the middle, playing slowly his violin. His eyes where closed and as he played he walked around, sometimes stopping in one spot for a few moments before carrying on.

Heero didn't deal with the artists. That was Relena’s job. He was perfectly content just making sure the technical side of any show ran smoothly. He checked the equipment, readied the microphones and cameras, fixed the lightning and handled any technical problems that might arise.

He dealt with computers and cables and sometimes with a couple of people who helped him but artist, be them actors, dancers, musicians or anyone else that was performing the theater, dealt with Relena. She 'handled' them. Told them when their shows were on, got them hotel rooms if they came from abroad, made their dinner reservations, catered to their annoying whims and wants and kept them far, far away from Heero.

"You can't be here," Heero said, hoping it would be enough. The last time Heero had interacted with an artist, Relena had to get Wufei to handle the lawsuit. It had been dropped, of course, but Wufei was still insufferable about it.

The music suddenly stopped. The man's eyes opened and he looked up at Heero as he lowered the instrument. "I'm sorry. I thought everyone was out. Relena told me this was the lunch hour."

"It is." Heero stared down at the man and waited for him to leave.

"Don't you lunch?"

Heero glared. "I have a sandwich," he said, not sure why he was explaining himself to this man.

"You should get out. It's not good to spend lunch hours at work," the blond said, smiling cheerily.

Heero turned around and went back to his laptop. He had said what he wanted to say.

He had just sat down and was going back to work when the music started again. It wasn't a slow melodic tune now but a faster paced, cheerful one.

Heero stood back up, went to the railing and saw the blond playing still, looking up at him. "If you're not going out I might as well give you some mood music. It must be lonely up there."

"I like it." Heero crossed his arms over his chest defensively.

"Oh is it nice?" The music had stopped now. "Can I see?"

Heero's eyes widened in disbelief. "Who are you?"

"Quatre Winner. I'm playing here in a couple of days," the blond replied. "My name is in the front of the theater," he added helpfully.

Heero glared. He saw no need to continue the conversation so he simply moved back out of view to continue his work. He waited a few of seconds, sure that the sounds of the violin would resume at any moment, but they didn't. He was just relaxing, focusing back on his work when the door to the small alcove he was using opened and a blond head popped in.

"This definitely isn't the best place to have lunch," Quatre said, giving a careful look at the piled equipment, cables littering the floor and posters of previous shows.

"This place is off limits to everyone," Heero said, still typing.

"I can see why... you know, it's a nice day out, you should have lunch in the park a few blocks from here. I saw it last nigh, it looks like a nice place."

"It's too warm outside." Heero let out a frustrated sigh. He wouldn't get any work done this way. "It's noon. Sensible people don't go out at noon in this weather."

An amused smile appeared in Quatre's face. "There's a nice cluster of trees where we can sit under. Besides, the sea breeze is strong so it'll be cool enough… and it's not that hot."

"These are the tropics, of course it's hot."

Quatre shrugged. "The desert is hotter. And there is no shade or sea breeze there."

The musician didn't look like someone who came from the desert but Heero refrained from asking. "If I go with you to eat my sandwich, would you leave me alone then?"

"Definitely," Quatre answered with a grin. "For a while…"

Heero closed his laptop, grabbed his sandwich and followed Quatre downstairs and out the theater. They walked in silence, keeping to the shadows of the old buildings to avoid the sun.

Heero wouldn't admit it but it was nice and cool sitting in the shade. Quatre had bought an ice cream and sat eating it quietly while Heero took bites of his sandwich.

Quatre didn't talk. Didn't ask intrusive questions or tried to start some small talk. He didn't ask with feigned interest what it was like living here or working in the theater or if he had met anyone famous. He just sat quietly, ate his ice cream and watched people walk by.

It was the nicest lunch Heero had ever had.

* * *

The next time he saw Quatre was the next afternoon. It was just hours before his first concert and Heero was heading to the theater to do the last sound check when he noticed Quatre standing in the middle of one of the small plazas giving an impromptu concert to a crowd of exited tourists and locals.

The strands of the violin could be heard a few blocks away, accompanied by the soft sounds of a flute. More people were being attracted by the beautiful music and it took a moment for Heero to open his way through the crowd and see Quatre playing accompanied by another man.

The violinist was dressed in shorts and a t-shirt but he hadn't bothered to hide his hair or face and many people had recognized him and were taking pictures and exclaiming excitedly about getting the chance to see such a famous musician performing in the streets.

The man beside him - Heero had learned after looking at Quatre’s program for the concert - was Trowa Barton. He was another musician, a flute player, not quite as famous but he was touring with Quatre and played with him as a special guest in his shows.

Quatre was good. He was more than good. Heero had listened to all kind of artists preform at the theater but few could captivate an audience and produce as beautiful music as Quatre did.

Heero wasn’t sure how long he stood there until Quatre’s eyes found him in the crowd. Quatre gave him a bright smile and the proceeded to play the rest of the song with his eyes fixed on Heero’s.

It was intimate; more than anything else he had experienced and he doubted that the touch of a hand could be more personal than being able to see directly into Quatre’s eyes as he played for him. And it was for him because even though the flute was still keeping its melodic song and the crowd around them hadn’t vanished, Heero knew Quatre was talking to him, to him and no one else.

The spell ended with the song and the loud clapping of the onlookers. Heero moved out of the crowd and started to head back to the theater. When the strands of the violin reached him again, his lips curved in a smile.

* *

When the door to the alcove above the stage opened, Heero didn’t even look back.

“You do know playing for free in the street just before the concert is bad for business, right?”

“Some would say that the publicity gathered from such a thing would more than make up for it,” Quatre said as he walked in, carefully avoiding the cables and tools on the floor.

“Was it a stunt?” Heero turned around. Quatre was still wearing the elegant trousers and shirt he had performed in. His tie was slightly askew and he had unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt.

“It was a bit of fun.” Quatre leaned back against the wall. “I’m sure I’ve told you about fun, or implied it, at least.”

“You play free concerts for fun?” And as Heero said the words he knew they were true.

“Would you like to grab dinner?” Quatre asked, ignoring Heero’s last sentence.

“Are you always this direct?”

“Sometimes.” Quatre brushed a strand of hair from his face. “When I really want something.”

“Fine,” Heero said and stood up.

Quatre seemed surprised for a moment and then smiled.

“My treat,” Heero added and before Quatre could protest he said, “you can buy next time.”

The smile he got in return was even brighter than the last.

Sometimes, when he really wanted something, Heero could be direct too.

- The End -

June 2011

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