Walk the Line
By Misanagi
Rating: PG
Pairing: 3x4
Summary: Trowa knows just how to keep Quatre going.
Warnings: Fluff, Waff.
Wordcount: 414
Notes: Written for the grand opening of gw bakery.
Thanks a lot to Anne for the quick beta.
"It's not so hard. Come on."
"Easy for you to say." Quatre held onto Trowa's hands tightly. "You've done it a million times."
"So have you," said Trowa, carefully taking a step back and pulling Quatre along with him.
"Try seven. And none of those ended well."
Trowa couldn't refute that. However, Quatre was nothing if not determined, and he had tried over and over again, even if each of those tries ended in failure. But apparently, the eighth time was the charm, and Quatre was ready to stop trying.
"Last time I almost sprained your wrist." Quatre was looking down.
"You weren't even close." Trowa let go of one of Quatre's hands to lift his chin until their eyes met, and then he took Quatre's hand again. "Kiss me."
Quatre raised both eyebrows. "What? Trowa, this isn't the time, or the place. If you want, we can forget about this an—"
Without letting go of Quatre's hand, Trowa pressed two fingers to Quatre's mouth, shutting him up. "Just kiss me, Cat."
With a deep breath, Quatre took a step forward, trying to reach Trowa. And with a smirk, Trowa took a step back. Quatre's eyes narrowed, understanding the challenge for what it was. If you wanted Quatre Raberba Winner to do something, all you had to do was challenge him. He could never resist.
Two, three, four steps back, and Quatre was still moving towards Trowa, keeping his eyes trained on him. They were still holding hands, but Quatre wasn't squeezing them as tightly as he had before. Trowa wasn't pulling Quatre anymore, not even leading him in the dance; they were simply walking together, Quatre trying to reach him and Trowa making sure Quatre kept going.
When he felt wood under his feet, Trowa's smug smirk turned into a smile. It didn't last long because Quatre leaned unto him, capturing his lips on a kiss. "I kissed you," Quatre said, keeping his lips close to Trowa's, so close they touched.
"You also walked the tightrope, and didn't fall." The smug smirk was back.
"I kind of miss falling." Quatre took a step back, grinning.
"There's no reason why you can't do both." Trowa took a step towards Quatre.
"I guess not," Quatre said, blew Trowa a kiss and let himself fall, backwards, to the safety net below.
Trowa looked down and saw Quatre, sprawled on the net, laughing.
"Kiss me!" Quatre yelled from below.
And Trowa could do nothing but jump.
- The End -