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444 Ficlet
You'll Never Walk Alone
By Misanagi
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character: Gen / Duo and Quatre
Summary: Duo walks into a bar to meet a friend.
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 542
Notes: for the 444 on![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sdqb. Prompt #5: Stagger.
Thanks to Anne for the quick beta.
____
Duo entered the bar and stood in the hallway. He took off his wet coat and used the sleeve of his shirt to dry his forehead. His hair was dripping and his pants were wet. He moved his fingers slowly, trying to get feeling back into them. The bar was warm and Duo wondered if he could stay there until the rain stopped. Going out again into that cold weather wasn't something he was looking forward to.
After only taking two steps into the bar Duo saw him. Quatre was sitting at the piano, playing a slow melancholic tune. His jacket and tie were nowhere in sight. His shirt wasn't tucked and two top buttons were undone. Quatre's eyes were closed and his head tilted back slightly, while his fingers moved expertly over the keys.
Someone called his name and Duo turned towards the bar. He recognized the bartender, Mike. It had been him who had called Duo at three o'clock in the morning, on a Thursday night to come pick Quatre up.
Leaning over the bar Duo asked, "How long has he been there?"
Mike poured an elderly man a shot of brandy and moved towards Duo. "He arrived around ten. Sat at his usual booth and ordered scotch on the rocks. One after another until around eleven. He stopped for a couple of hours and then ordered another two before Alfonse left and he took the old man's place at the piano. He has been playing since."
Duo sat on a stool and just watched Quatre for a little while.
"The manager didn't want me to call you," Mike said. "Customers stay longer, drink more, when he plays."
"Yeah," Duo nodded. "He makes you listen, even if you don't want to." He put his wet coat on the bar. "Can you hold this for me?"
Mike nodded and Duo thanked him before walking towards the piano. He stood beside it and watched Quatre's fingers dance over the keys; it never ceased to amaze him how they never slipped, no matter how many glasses of scotch Quatre had drunk.
Quatre looked like hell. There were bruises under his eyes, tired lines on his face and his back was tense. The music alone spoke loudly of Quatre's exhaustion. He was draining and this was his way to call for help.
"You are too quiet, Duo. It's not like you." Quatre's eyes were still closed but his head was tilted in Duo's direction.
Duo laughed softly. "Well yeah, I didn't want to interrupt."
Quatre's eyes opened. "You never do." His voice sounded fine but the unfocused look in his eyes gave him away. "You came to take me home?"
"Yeah… when you're ready to go."
The song came to an end, but almost immediately another started. It was still melancholic but the pace was faster, more desperate. "Just one more," Quatre said, closing his eyes again.
Duo put a hand on Quatre's shoulder and squeezed. "As many as you need, buddy."
Later that night, Duo would put an arm around Quatre's waist and help him out the bar. They would walk in the rain – Quatre always insisted on walking – progressing slowly through the streets, Duo holding Quatre, and Quatre letting himself be held.
- The End -
By Misanagi
Rating: PG
Pairing/Character: Gen / Duo and Quatre
Summary: Duo walks into a bar to meet a friend.
Warnings: Angst
Word Count: 542
Notes: for the 444 on
sdqb. Prompt #5: Stagger.Thanks to Anne for the quick beta.
____
Duo entered the bar and stood in the hallway. He took off his wet coat and used the sleeve of his shirt to dry his forehead. His hair was dripping and his pants were wet. He moved his fingers slowly, trying to get feeling back into them. The bar was warm and Duo wondered if he could stay there until the rain stopped. Going out again into that cold weather wasn't something he was looking forward to.
After only taking two steps into the bar Duo saw him. Quatre was sitting at the piano, playing a slow melancholic tune. His jacket and tie were nowhere in sight. His shirt wasn't tucked and two top buttons were undone. Quatre's eyes were closed and his head tilted back slightly, while his fingers moved expertly over the keys.
Someone called his name and Duo turned towards the bar. He recognized the bartender, Mike. It had been him who had called Duo at three o'clock in the morning, on a Thursday night to come pick Quatre up.
Leaning over the bar Duo asked, "How long has he been there?"
Mike poured an elderly man a shot of brandy and moved towards Duo. "He arrived around ten. Sat at his usual booth and ordered scotch on the rocks. One after another until around eleven. He stopped for a couple of hours and then ordered another two before Alfonse left and he took the old man's place at the piano. He has been playing since."
Duo sat on a stool and just watched Quatre for a little while.
"The manager didn't want me to call you," Mike said. "Customers stay longer, drink more, when he plays."
"Yeah," Duo nodded. "He makes you listen, even if you don't want to." He put his wet coat on the bar. "Can you hold this for me?"
Mike nodded and Duo thanked him before walking towards the piano. He stood beside it and watched Quatre's fingers dance over the keys; it never ceased to amaze him how they never slipped, no matter how many glasses of scotch Quatre had drunk.
Quatre looked like hell. There were bruises under his eyes, tired lines on his face and his back was tense. The music alone spoke loudly of Quatre's exhaustion. He was draining and this was his way to call for help.
"You are too quiet, Duo. It's not like you." Quatre's eyes were still closed but his head was tilted in Duo's direction.
Duo laughed softly. "Well yeah, I didn't want to interrupt."
Quatre's eyes opened. "You never do." His voice sounded fine but the unfocused look in his eyes gave him away. "You came to take me home?"
"Yeah… when you're ready to go."
The song came to an end, but almost immediately another started. It was still melancholic but the pace was faster, more desperate. "Just one more," Quatre said, closing his eyes again.
Duo put a hand on Quatre's shoulder and squeezed. "As many as you need, buddy."
Later that night, Duo would put an arm around Quatre's waist and help him out the bar. They would walk in the rain – Quatre always insisted on walking – progressing slowly through the streets, Duo holding Quatre, and Quatre letting himself be held.
- The End -