Idiosyncrasy

Trowa/Wufei. PG-13. ~600 words. Humour. Futurefic.
Trowa has a little problem with Wufei’s lunch habits.

Trowa tapped his fingers rapidly against the top of his desk, staring blankly at the screen in front of him and frowning hard.

Wufei was at it again.

Ten minutes to go until their shift broke for lunch, leaving the rest of the poor saps at Preventers HQ to their mind-numbing paperwork, and Wufei just couldn’t wait to unpack his lunch like everyone else. Or to even brave purchasing a meal from the cafeteria, oh, no, he simply wouldn’t. He just had to take out something and eat it on the way out. Not a single moment before, mind you – Wufei would never eat at his desk, he kept the space immaculately clean; he would wait until the very minute the break began before he took one bite.

And what was he doing with it before then? Why, toying with it, of course. Granola bar, fruit cup, wrapped homemade cookies, whatever it was, Wufei would fiddle with the damn thing. It was a compulsion, a habit, a something, and it drove Trowa insane. To distraction. To the very limit of his sanity.

Trowa didn’t begrudge someone their little idiosyncrasies, he had more than his own fair share of them. It was the way in which Wufei insisted upon playing with those little bits of his lunch. A normal person would flick at it, or toy with the wrapping and have it half gone by the time lunch rolled around, but not Wufei. He would sit there and caress the damn things! Long, graceful fingers running over the items again and again, while Wufei’s attention was firmly focused elsewhere.

It was maddening.

Today was the worst day in a long, long time. Lately, it had been fruit cups and cookies, little tiny round crackers or muffins, but not today. Today, it had to be this. Trowa slumped back in his chair, closing his eyes and trying to banish the image of those fingers gliding over other things…like his skin. Or his lips. Or…dammit!

Wrenching his eyes open again, Trowa frowned furiously at Wufei, then quietly cursed under his breath. Back and forth went the other’s fingers, stroking lightly, his brow furrowed slightly with concentration and completely oblivious to Trowa’s plight.

Trowa glanced at the clock. Five minutes to go. He could last that long. Suddenly struck by the ironic thought that no, if Wufei was doing that to him he wouldn’t last long at all, he was barely able to stifle the chuckle that threatened to escape his lips.

The tip of one of Wufei’s finger started moving in little circles, soon joined by another and then the two started stroking again, the soft pads pressing lightly. Trowa bit back a groan, his eyes dancing between the torturous display and the clock and willing the seconds to speed by and the tightness in his groin to go away.

Wufei’s hand gradually slowed, then stopped, his fingers resting lightly on the desk. Trowa breathed a small sigh of relief. Relief which was short-lived. Abruptly, Wufei closed his hand firmly around it and rose to his feet, and then brought his hand to his mouth.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He couldn’t do that. He wasn’t allowed…oh, yes. Wufei parted his lips and pushed the stalk between them, gripping it with his teeth while gathering up some papers and the rest of his lunch with his hands. He looked up at Trowa, glancing at the door and then at the clock, waiting for him to stand and join him for lunch. Trowa, his gaze fixed on Wufei’s mouth, nodded slowly, discreetly adjusted his pants under the desk and stood.

Trowa always did have a love and hate relationship with bananas.

End

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