![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[FIC] GW: Little Gifts
... ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
karabahdream? I'm so sorry and so late about the Christmas Request fic, but here it is anyway... Wu-muse refused to co-operate because, in his own words, 'I refuse to be portrayed as a lovestruck idiot and I refuse to cheat on Treize (and Zechs)'. And my pairing-muses disappeared, then real life ate me. But here it in, finally, in all it's glory. XD
Commentz, yo.
Little Gifts
Character/Pairing: Wufei/Quatre
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1628
Summary: “Quatre, I… have been having dreams of you…” Wufei’s confession, sequel-but-not to Tomorrow. Extreme amount of fluff and un-funny jokes, and perhaps just a little OOC.
“Quatre, I… have been having dreams of you for… um… quite some time and um… argh! No! I sound like a stalker!”
Wufei sighed heavily to himself, raking a hand through glossy black hair as he stared at himself in the mirror. He picked imaginary lint from the Mandarin collar of his white dress shirt, fidgeting with the buttons as he tried to think of a good way to profess to Quatre his feelings.
It was Christmas, and Quatre had thrown a party specifically for the Gundam Pilots and those who had helped them during the war. According to Quatre, “it had been too long since we’ve seen each other, Wufei, and this will be a good opportunity to catch up!” Of course, Wufei had declined, but Quatre had, somehow, managed to convince him to attend. In truth, it didn’t take much convincing, for Wufei was genuinely interesting in seeing the others (Quatre in particular, however cliché that sounded) again. But he had a reputation of a grumpy scholar to maintain. It wouldn’t do for him to act ‘out-of-character’, after all. It might just give Maxwell a heart attack.
Wufei sighed again, smoothing down unwrinkled black pants. There was no use practicing in front of a mirror, not when he was obviously not professing love to himself. He shrugged slightly; he could only take his chances at convincing to Quatre at the party.
“Hopefully I won’t screw up… I don’t want to think of what will happen if I screw up…” he muttered to himself, picking up his keys from the coffee table.
He utterly refused to think of the possibilities if Quatre didn’t return, or worse, reject his feelings. Wufei knew that if he did, he would never gather enough courage to actually tell Quatre how he felt.
Wufei stood at the door, running a cursory glance at his drab apartment. He shook his head, muttering a soft, self-deprecating “Merry Christmas!” before slamming the door shut as he left the apartment.
---
The party was… loud.
That wasn’t a bad thing, really, to be honest. Wufei could hide himself amongst the crowd. The noise, too, would be useful as camouflage so that no others (namely Maxwell), will be able to eavesdrop on Quatre and himself. Of course, it’ll also mean that they couldn’t hear themselves very well either.
Wufei sighed, swirling his cup of punch in one hand, eyeing it suspiciously before downing it in one gulp. If it was spiked, so be it. He would need some Dutch courage tonight anyway.
He craned his neck, scanning the room for Quatre. No matter how idea the conditions for the mission, it is impossible to accomplish if the mission objective could not be found.
Wufei snorted at himself, half-amused, half-exasperated, silently. He knew he had been spending far too much time at work when he though of a confession… conversation between friends as a mission.
“Bah humbug!” he growled, not bothering to lower his voice. The noise in the room would drown it out any way. He stared moodily down at his punch cup, wishing for more punch to magically appear (even though he knew it to be impossible). Maybe it was a mistake to come, after all…
“Why the long face, Wufei?”
Wufei jerked, nearly choking on his own spit as he spun around too quickly. He stared, wide-eyed in shock, at the blond who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“Qua… Winner!”
Quatre smiled, laughing softly at Wufei’s shocked reaction.
“I thought I’ve told you to call me Quatre, Wufei. ‘Winner’ is much too formal between friends, isn’t it? And we are friends, aren’t we?”
Large baby-blue eyes gazed up to him, almost sparkling with sincerity and hope. Wufei sighed, nodding reluctantly. He could never stand up to those convincing puppy-eyes that Quatre was so accomplish in making.
“Of course we’re friends, Qua… Wi… Quatre.”
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Quatre’s tone was gently chiding, and completely at odds with the glittering mischief in his eyes. With a mental wince, Wufei had the sinking feeling that he had just been manipulated for some reason. However, he found himself not really minding it all that much.
A loud raucous cheer suddenly went up, bringing Wufei out from his thoughts. He turned towards the noise, and then wished he didn’t as his face felt hot all of a sudden.
Maxwell had somehow gotten Yuy drunk (Wufei knew the punch was spiked. He wondered how Maxwell got Yuy to drink it in the first place, though) and were standing atop the makeshift bar-counter. They were slowly pulling their shirts off and dancing to the crowd in a way that Wufei was sure to be illegal. Below them, cheering and whistling loudly, were Peacecraft (with suspicious red spots on her cheeks), Schbeiker (who doesn’t seem at all drunk) and Barton’s sister (waving around an empty punch cup and spraying ice everywhere). Wufei bit his cheek, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous sight. He really wished to have a camera right now; this was truly something that needed to be recorded down… for the memories (blackmail? Who dares to accuse me so?!)
Wufei turned towards Quatre, and was struck speechless once more, this time for a completely different reason. Laughing at Maxwell and Yuy’s antics, Quatre’s cheeks and slightly pinked and the tips of his ears were red. The colour absolutely clashed with the blond hair, but it still was, undoubtedly, the most adorable sight Wufei had ever seen, no matter how cliché that sounded. He forgave Maxwell and Yuy for interrupting their conversation. Partly. He hoped that Schbeiker remembered about taking pictures, though…
Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Wufei took hold of himself and shook his head free of distracting thoughts. Right. The mission. He grabbed Quatre’s wrist suddenly, mentally slapping himself for suddenly being so familiar, and dragged the blond towards the private balcony he had glimpsed when he first came in.
“Wufei? What’s the matter?”
Blue eyes peered at him in concern, and Wufei smiled slightly in what he hoped was a reassuring manner (how does people do this kind of thing?)
“Nothing wrong. I just… err… have something to tell you.”
He fidgeted slightly, staring at his shoes, absently realizing that there’s a spot that he’d missed when polishing, before lifting his eyes back to meet Quatre’s. He smiled again, this time to reassure himself more than anything else, and scratched his neck sheepishly.
“Err… I… um… Quatre,Ireallylikeyou.”
Quatre blinked, confusion written in every feature and an apologetic smile on his lips. “Excuse me? Wufei, I really didn’t catch that… Can you… speak slower?”
Wufei scowled mentally to himself, taking a deep breath and releasing the urge to bash his head into the wall. Taking another deep breath for good measure, he opened his mouth.
“Quatre… I… um… really like you.”
To his surprise, and no little mortification, and giant, mischievous grin suddenly appeared on the blonde’s face. Taken aback, Wufei blinked silently. Without even looking into a mirror, he knew that he was blushing and was looking extremely confused. His confusion only grew when Quatre spoke.
“… I know.”
“Huh? What do you mean, Wi…Qua… Win… Quatre”
“You know, Quatre’s just fine, really. And when I say I know, I mean I know.” The slightly disturbing grin grew even larger, and an extremely mischievous glint entered Quatre’s eyes. Wufei wondered if he should start running now. “My Space Heart told me.” The blond jerked a thumb to his own chest.
Too shocked to speak, (he knew? How the hell did he know? When did he know? Oh shit!), Wufei could only stare at Quatre, mouth slightly agape. However, Quatre wasn’t finished.
“I know… And, Wufei, I… uh… I really like you too?”
Wufei jerked out of his confusing train of thoughts, which was going somewhere he didn’t want it to anyway, closed his mouth with an audible ‘click’. He opened his mouth again, trying to speak but only managing a small, surprised croak. Shaking his head, he tried again.
“Quatre, you… really?”
A short, decisive nod was his answer.
Wufei grinned from ear to it. It was uncharacteristic of his, he knew, but he really couldn’t care right now. He told Quatre that he liked him, really like him, and Quatre told him he knew (he really didn’t want to dwell on this part right now) and, more importantly, Quatre liked him back. Wufei doesn’t care how he looked right now, and… um… is kissing right for first dates? Can this be considered a date? Would it be presumptuous of me to kiss him? Help!
The balcony door burst open.
“Hey! Wufei, Quatre! What are the two of you doing in here?! Duo and Heero’s getting naked, not that Heero wears much anyway, but wow, I bet they both go commando and I have pictures!”
Schbeiker’s almost too-loud voice blasted in, jerking the both of them apart and making Wufei’s idiotic smile to fall off his face. He turned to her, glaring a glare fit to make grown men piss their pants, but she remained unfazed. Gripping the both of them by the collar of their shirts, she proceeded to drag them out, back towards the too-loud music and Maxwell and Yuy’s striptease (why is Barton up there? … I don’t want to know.).
He turned towards Quatre as they were both unceremoniously dragged up towards the bar counter. A beatific smile greeted him, and a silent warning in blue eyes to not join the two at the bar top and to not hurt any of his guests. Wufei sighed, getting out of the ‘ready’ position he was half-consciously in.
He wondered if he should start planning his funeral yet.
End
karabahdream? I'm so sorry and so late about the Christmas Request fic, but here it is anyway... Wu-muse refused to co-operate because, in his own words, 'I refuse to be portrayed as a lovestruck idiot and I refuse to cheat on Treize (and Zechs)'. And my pairing-muses disappeared, then real life ate me. But here it in, finally, in all it's glory. XDCommentz, yo.
Little Gifts
Character/Pairing: Wufei/Quatre
Rating: PG-13
Words: 1628
Summary: “Quatre, I… have been having dreams of you…” Wufei’s confession, sequel-but-not to Tomorrow. Extreme amount of fluff and un-funny jokes, and perhaps just a little OOC.
“Quatre, I… have been having dreams of you for… um… quite some time and um… argh! No! I sound like a stalker!”
Wufei sighed heavily to himself, raking a hand through glossy black hair as he stared at himself in the mirror. He picked imaginary lint from the Mandarin collar of his white dress shirt, fidgeting with the buttons as he tried to think of a good way to profess to Quatre his feelings.
It was Christmas, and Quatre had thrown a party specifically for the Gundam Pilots and those who had helped them during the war. According to Quatre, “it had been too long since we’ve seen each other, Wufei, and this will be a good opportunity to catch up!” Of course, Wufei had declined, but Quatre had, somehow, managed to convince him to attend. In truth, it didn’t take much convincing, for Wufei was genuinely interesting in seeing the others (Quatre in particular, however cliché that sounded) again. But he had a reputation of a grumpy scholar to maintain. It wouldn’t do for him to act ‘out-of-character’, after all. It might just give Maxwell a heart attack.
Wufei sighed again, smoothing down unwrinkled black pants. There was no use practicing in front of a mirror, not when he was obviously not professing love to himself. He shrugged slightly; he could only take his chances at convincing to Quatre at the party.
“Hopefully I won’t screw up… I don’t want to think of what will happen if I screw up…” he muttered to himself, picking up his keys from the coffee table.
He utterly refused to think of the possibilities if Quatre didn’t return, or worse, reject his feelings. Wufei knew that if he did, he would never gather enough courage to actually tell Quatre how he felt.
Wufei stood at the door, running a cursory glance at his drab apartment. He shook his head, muttering a soft, self-deprecating “Merry Christmas!” before slamming the door shut as he left the apartment.
---
The party was… loud.
That wasn’t a bad thing, really, to be honest. Wufei could hide himself amongst the crowd. The noise, too, would be useful as camouflage so that no others (namely Maxwell), will be able to eavesdrop on Quatre and himself. Of course, it’ll also mean that they couldn’t hear themselves very well either.
Wufei sighed, swirling his cup of punch in one hand, eyeing it suspiciously before downing it in one gulp. If it was spiked, so be it. He would need some Dutch courage tonight anyway.
He craned his neck, scanning the room for Quatre. No matter how idea the conditions for the mission, it is impossible to accomplish if the mission objective could not be found.
Wufei snorted at himself, half-amused, half-exasperated, silently. He knew he had been spending far too much time at work when he though of a confession… conversation between friends as a mission.
“Bah humbug!” he growled, not bothering to lower his voice. The noise in the room would drown it out any way. He stared moodily down at his punch cup, wishing for more punch to magically appear (even though he knew it to be impossible). Maybe it was a mistake to come, after all…
“Why the long face, Wufei?”
Wufei jerked, nearly choking on his own spit as he spun around too quickly. He stared, wide-eyed in shock, at the blond who seemed to have appeared from nowhere.
“Qua… Winner!”
Quatre smiled, laughing softly at Wufei’s shocked reaction.
“I thought I’ve told you to call me Quatre, Wufei. ‘Winner’ is much too formal between friends, isn’t it? And we are friends, aren’t we?”
Large baby-blue eyes gazed up to him, almost sparkling with sincerity and hope. Wufei sighed, nodding reluctantly. He could never stand up to those convincing puppy-eyes that Quatre was so accomplish in making.
“Of course we’re friends, Qua… Wi… Quatre.”
“Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Quatre’s tone was gently chiding, and completely at odds with the glittering mischief in his eyes. With a mental wince, Wufei had the sinking feeling that he had just been manipulated for some reason. However, he found himself not really minding it all that much.
A loud raucous cheer suddenly went up, bringing Wufei out from his thoughts. He turned towards the noise, and then wished he didn’t as his face felt hot all of a sudden.
Maxwell had somehow gotten Yuy drunk (Wufei knew the punch was spiked. He wondered how Maxwell got Yuy to drink it in the first place, though) and were standing atop the makeshift bar-counter. They were slowly pulling their shirts off and dancing to the crowd in a way that Wufei was sure to be illegal. Below them, cheering and whistling loudly, were Peacecraft (with suspicious red spots on her cheeks), Schbeiker (who doesn’t seem at all drunk) and Barton’s sister (waving around an empty punch cup and spraying ice everywhere). Wufei bit his cheek, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous sight. He really wished to have a camera right now; this was truly something that needed to be recorded down… for the memories (blackmail? Who dares to accuse me so?!)
Wufei turned towards Quatre, and was struck speechless once more, this time for a completely different reason. Laughing at Maxwell and Yuy’s antics, Quatre’s cheeks and slightly pinked and the tips of his ears were red. The colour absolutely clashed with the blond hair, but it still was, undoubtedly, the most adorable sight Wufei had ever seen, no matter how cliché that sounded. He forgave Maxwell and Yuy for interrupting their conversation. Partly. He hoped that Schbeiker remembered about taking pictures, though…
Taking a deep breath and steeling his nerves, Wufei took hold of himself and shook his head free of distracting thoughts. Right. The mission. He grabbed Quatre’s wrist suddenly, mentally slapping himself for suddenly being so familiar, and dragged the blond towards the private balcony he had glimpsed when he first came in.
“Wufei? What’s the matter?”
Blue eyes peered at him in concern, and Wufei smiled slightly in what he hoped was a reassuring manner (how does people do this kind of thing?)
“Nothing wrong. I just… err… have something to tell you.”
He fidgeted slightly, staring at his shoes, absently realizing that there’s a spot that he’d missed when polishing, before lifting his eyes back to meet Quatre’s. He smiled again, this time to reassure himself more than anything else, and scratched his neck sheepishly.
“Err… I… um… Quatre,Ireallylikeyou.”
Quatre blinked, confusion written in every feature and an apologetic smile on his lips. “Excuse me? Wufei, I really didn’t catch that… Can you… speak slower?”
Wufei scowled mentally to himself, taking a deep breath and releasing the urge to bash his head into the wall. Taking another deep breath for good measure, he opened his mouth.
“Quatre… I… um… really like you.”
To his surprise, and no little mortification, and giant, mischievous grin suddenly appeared on the blonde’s face. Taken aback, Wufei blinked silently. Without even looking into a mirror, he knew that he was blushing and was looking extremely confused. His confusion only grew when Quatre spoke.
“… I know.”
“Huh? What do you mean, Wi…Qua… Win… Quatre”
“You know, Quatre’s just fine, really. And when I say I know, I mean I know.” The slightly disturbing grin grew even larger, and an extremely mischievous glint entered Quatre’s eyes. Wufei wondered if he should start running now. “My Space Heart told me.” The blond jerked a thumb to his own chest.
Too shocked to speak, (he knew? How the hell did he know? When did he know? Oh shit!), Wufei could only stare at Quatre, mouth slightly agape. However, Quatre wasn’t finished.
“I know… And, Wufei, I… uh… I really like you too?”
Wufei jerked out of his confusing train of thoughts, which was going somewhere he didn’t want it to anyway, closed his mouth with an audible ‘click’. He opened his mouth again, trying to speak but only managing a small, surprised croak. Shaking his head, he tried again.
“Quatre, you… really?”
A short, decisive nod was his answer.
Wufei grinned from ear to it. It was uncharacteristic of his, he knew, but he really couldn’t care right now. He told Quatre that he liked him, really like him, and Quatre told him he knew (he really didn’t want to dwell on this part right now) and, more importantly, Quatre liked him back. Wufei doesn’t care how he looked right now, and… um… is kissing right for first dates? Can this be considered a date? Would it be presumptuous of me to kiss him? Help!
The balcony door burst open.
“Hey! Wufei, Quatre! What are the two of you doing in here?! Duo and Heero’s getting naked, not that Heero wears much anyway, but wow, I bet they both go commando and I have pictures!”
Schbeiker’s almost too-loud voice blasted in, jerking the both of them apart and making Wufei’s idiotic smile to fall off his face. He turned to her, glaring a glare fit to make grown men piss their pants, but she remained unfazed. Gripping the both of them by the collar of their shirts, she proceeded to drag them out, back towards the too-loud music and Maxwell and Yuy’s striptease (why is Barton up there? … I don’t want to know.).
He turned towards Quatre as they were both unceremoniously dragged up towards the bar counter. A beatific smile greeted him, and a silent warning in blue eyes to not join the two at the bar top and to not hurt any of his guests. Wufei sighed, getting out of the ‘ready’ position he was half-consciously in.
He wondered if he should start planning his funeral yet.
End