misanagi

Deserving

Rating: G
Pairing: 3x4
Warnings: Part of the College not-an-arc series.
Summary: Where the hell was Quatre when he needed to be saved from meaningless small talk?
Wordcount: 552

Written for

lil_1337. Merry Christmas!

Thanks to Anne for the beta.

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"You must like to read," the girl said with an awkward smile.

Trowa didn't bother with a reply. Why did everyone asked that question when he told them he studied literature? Wasn't it obvious? And where the hell was Quatre when he needed to be saved from meaningless small talk?

Having gone through the great lengths of putting on a suit and a tie, and attending the formal event, Trowa expected Quatre to stick by his side and save him from all the awkward social interactions. After all, a gathering of the top finance students who were up for a merit scholarship wasn't the place for Trowa.

He realized it the moment Quatre was whisked away by an old lady who introduced herself as the dean, and he was left alone to fend for himself. Trowa had no problem leaning unobtrusively on a wall and waiting for Quatre to come back, but unfortunately, some of the women at the reunion had other ideas. He had tried his best to fend them off quickly, especially when their eyes took that condescending look after they learned his area of study, but they kept coming.

"So you do like reading," the girl continued.

"He does, Julie," Quatre said, appearing behind her with two drinks in his hand. He handed one to Trowa, getting a smile in return. "And I'm sure he would like to tell you all about it but I need him for a moment. Please excuse us." With that he started walking to the other side of the room and Trowa gratefully followed.

"I hope you know this is torture," Trowa said when they were settled in not so crowded corner.

"I brought you some rum and coke to alleviate the agony." Quatre took a drink and then gave Trowa his best bright smile.

"Win the merit scholarship and we'll call it even." Trowa shrugged and took a drink. All that money and they couldn't make a decent rum and coke.

Quatre laughed. "And if I don't?"

"Then you'll have to find another way to make it up to me."

"Then I better lose." Quatre winked.

"I hope you win," Trowa said, his tone sincere. "You deserve it."

Quatre bit his lip and lowered his head slightly. "I don't know."

"It doesn't matter if you don't need the money." Trowa paused and waited for Quatre to look at him in the eyes. "If you are the best, you deserve it."

It was a moment before Quatre spoke. "I'm not keeping it," he said. "If I win, I mean. I'm donating it to the EPF. I just asked the dean and she said it could be done."

Trowa's eyes widened slightly. The EPF or Especial Program Founds financed the photocopies, books, lunches, transport and other necessities of underprivileged scholarship students, that even though didn't have to worry about tuition, did have other study related expenses. "Are you sure?"

"I would feel bad taking it when there are others who need it more." Quatre took a sip of his drink. "I'm not sure if I'll win anyway so…" he made a gesture with his hand and let the sentence hang.

Trowa took the hand and smiled at Quatre. "I really hope you win." Quatre started to shrug but Trowa squeezed his hand. "I really do."

Quatre smiled slightly and finally said, "I kind of do too."

- The End -