Heero eats his soup in hot spoonfuls, and it must be the vodka kicking in because he’s in danger of looking a little soft around the edges. It’s nice to squabble like this. Quatre slowly unbuttons, fingers caressing the stem of his dwindling glass of wine, sleeves rolled up as he laughingly coaxes Wufei into giving scallops a chance.
Wufei’s grousing turns from genuine to just a facade. He rises to accept a spoonful of the soup from across the table, threatens to tip it into Duo’s beer, and sits down saying, “That’s very good, actually.”
Duo has fingers in everything, finding combinations of lamb and bacalao that the chef never thought of. He dangles one arm across the back of Trowa’s chair at intervals, gesturing with the other as he talks.
Trowa catches Heero’s eye over Duo’s head and they share an understanding.
Author: Odamaki ??? (20k across 4 fics and a podcast version)
Heero's going out for dinner, with a date. Or four. The staff at the restaurant frankly don't know what the hell is going on, and neither does anyone else.
My notes: Are they dating? Friends? Queerplatonic life partners? All and none of the above? Or "nothing more than boys with the taste of sweetness on their lips"? I don't know, and frankly, I don't care. I love this set of fics. Sweet and fluffy, interlaced with angst, insecurity and even a bit of creepy folktales around a campfire.