Ficlet for ![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
aka_anonymous
Dec. 24th, 2006 06:59 pmmisanagiNuisances
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x4
Warnings: Fluff, sap… all that.
Summary: More than once, Trowa asked himself how he got into certain situations and, usually, the answer was a blond billionaire called Quatre Winner.
Wordcount: 628
Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
aka_anonymous. Merry Christmas!
Thanks to Anne for the beta.
---
More than once, Trowa asked himself how he got into certain situations and, usually, the answer was a blond billionaire called Quatre Winner. He didn't really mind much, after all Quatre was usually there with him, at the benefit bachelor auction, the banquets, the sexiest men alive list… of course, Trowa was well aware that he wouldn't be noticed by the entire world and colonies if he wasn't dating Quatre, but the nuisances were well worth it.
However, this morning, Trowa was seriously considering kidnapping Quatre and moving away to Fiji, Tibet, Mars or wherever the paparazzi couldn't find them.
Trowa finished his coffee, all the time aware that Quatre was sitting in front of him, looking and waiting for a reaction. Then, Trowa glanced down at the paper lying in the middle of the table and asked, "And just how, exactly, did we end up married?!"
Quatre picked his discarded coffee mug and took a sip. "I believe it says we had a quiet ceremony in space."
"I read that." Trowa put his index finger over the old photo of them, walking hand in hand, the tabloid had used for the article. "I'm wondering what gave them that idea."
The way Quatre's eyes moved to the side while he picked up his mug was all the evidence Trowa needed to know that this was Quatre's fault somehow. "What did you do?" Trowa asked, with a resigned tone.
Biting his lower lip, Quatre placed the mug back on the table. "Do you remember that meeting with Mancini's Industries last Friday?"
Trowa nodded slowly, remembering how irritated Quatre had been after the meeting. Something had happened but Quatre had evaded Trowa's questions and claimed that the Mancini executives were simply difficult people.
"The Chief Executive, Ronald Blair," Quatre sneered, obviously he had a poor opinion of the man, "made a comment about… about us."
The hostile take over of Mancini's Industries and the subsequent replacement of their CEO suddenly made sense. Quatre had no tolerance for people questioning their relationship and the few people who had the guts to say even the slightest remark about it, always regretted it.
However, that still didn't explain why Cathy had phoned this morning, angrily demanding to know why she hadn't been invited to the non existent wedding. "What did he say?" Trowa asked, knowing that Quatre wouldn't volunteer the information.
Quatre sighed. "He called you my boy toy." His eyes were blazing. Quatre really disliked that expression.
"It isn't the first time we've heard that." Trowa shrugged. He brushed the comment off like all the other nonsense he had to deal with. It didn't matter what others believed as long as he and Quatre knew that he didn't love Quatre for his money, he loved him in spite of that.
"I know, but then this Blair minion had the nerve to say that I must agree, otherwise I would have married you already." Quatre looked at his coffee cup. "So I said I was going to."
For a few moments no one spoke. Quatre kept his eyes stubbornly on his coffee cup, refusing to look up at Trowa.
"Did you mean it?" Trowa finally asked.
Quatre's eyes met Trowa's. "I did." He smiled slightly. "I wanted to talk to you first but… I lost my temper."
Trowa smirked; he nodded once and said, "I do."
"You…do?" Quatre's eyes were wide and his smile bright.
"The tabloid's idea isn't bad. A wedding in space would be nice." Trowa reached across the table and put his hand over Quatre's.
If it was possible, Quatre's smile was even brighter. "I'd like that."
Trowa leaned over the table and kissed his fiancé, the tabloid forgotten on the floor. The little nuisances were more than worth it.
- The End -
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x4
Warnings: Fluff, sap… all that.
Summary: More than once, Trowa asked himself how he got into certain situations and, usually, the answer was a blond billionaire called Quatre Winner.
Wordcount: 628
Written for
aka_anonymous. Merry Christmas!Thanks to Anne for the beta.
---
More than once, Trowa asked himself how he got into certain situations and, usually, the answer was a blond billionaire called Quatre Winner. He didn't really mind much, after all Quatre was usually there with him, at the benefit bachelor auction, the banquets, the sexiest men alive list… of course, Trowa was well aware that he wouldn't be noticed by the entire world and colonies if he wasn't dating Quatre, but the nuisances were well worth it.
However, this morning, Trowa was seriously considering kidnapping Quatre and moving away to Fiji, Tibet, Mars or wherever the paparazzi couldn't find them.
Trowa finished his coffee, all the time aware that Quatre was sitting in front of him, looking and waiting for a reaction. Then, Trowa glanced down at the paper lying in the middle of the table and asked, "And just how, exactly, did we end up married?!"
Quatre picked his discarded coffee mug and took a sip. "I believe it says we had a quiet ceremony in space."
"I read that." Trowa put his index finger over the old photo of them, walking hand in hand, the tabloid had used for the article. "I'm wondering what gave them that idea."
The way Quatre's eyes moved to the side while he picked up his mug was all the evidence Trowa needed to know that this was Quatre's fault somehow. "What did you do?" Trowa asked, with a resigned tone.
Biting his lower lip, Quatre placed the mug back on the table. "Do you remember that meeting with Mancini's Industries last Friday?"
Trowa nodded slowly, remembering how irritated Quatre had been after the meeting. Something had happened but Quatre had evaded Trowa's questions and claimed that the Mancini executives were simply difficult people.
"The Chief Executive, Ronald Blair," Quatre sneered, obviously he had a poor opinion of the man, "made a comment about… about us."
The hostile take over of Mancini's Industries and the subsequent replacement of their CEO suddenly made sense. Quatre had no tolerance for people questioning their relationship and the few people who had the guts to say even the slightest remark about it, always regretted it.
However, that still didn't explain why Cathy had phoned this morning, angrily demanding to know why she hadn't been invited to the non existent wedding. "What did he say?" Trowa asked, knowing that Quatre wouldn't volunteer the information.
Quatre sighed. "He called you my boy toy." His eyes were blazing. Quatre really disliked that expression.
"It isn't the first time we've heard that." Trowa shrugged. He brushed the comment off like all the other nonsense he had to deal with. It didn't matter what others believed as long as he and Quatre knew that he didn't love Quatre for his money, he loved him in spite of that.
"I know, but then this Blair minion had the nerve to say that I must agree, otherwise I would have married you already." Quatre looked at his coffee cup. "So I said I was going to."
For a few moments no one spoke. Quatre kept his eyes stubbornly on his coffee cup, refusing to look up at Trowa.
"Did you mean it?" Trowa finally asked.
Quatre's eyes met Trowa's. "I did." He smiled slightly. "I wanted to talk to you first but… I lost my temper."
Trowa smirked; he nodded once and said, "I do."
"You…do?" Quatre's eyes were wide and his smile bright.
"The tabloid's idea isn't bad. A wedding in space would be nice." Trowa reached across the table and put his hand over Quatre's.
If it was possible, Quatre's smile was even brighter. "I'd like that."
Trowa leaned over the table and kissed his fiancé, the tabloid forgotten on the floor. The little nuisances were more than worth it.
- The End -
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 03:58 am (UTC)WOW.
What a turn of phrase. IT was...absolutly brilliant. Fucking awesome. (adds to my own vocabualry now). Perfect.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 05:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 04:09 am (UTC)And now I'm inspired and must go off and write!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 05:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 09:00 am (UTC)*Bounces like a
twenty-five year old at Christmas*That's so damn cute! The opening line was fabulous. Thanks, hun! Merry Christmas!
no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 05:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-25 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 05:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-26 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 05:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-26 11:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-27 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-05 10:10 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-07-06 04:20 pm (UTC)