Disclaimer: If they actually belonged to me, this wouldn't be fanfiction, now would it?
Warning: Drabble. Oneshot (part of a series of oneshots I'm writing in different fandoms, connected only by the prompt). Implied slash. Duh.
Utensil Joy
Part Quinze
Trowa leans forward and gently brushes the hair back off of Quatre's forehead, sighing in relief as his eyes flicker open.
"How are you feeling?" he asks softly.
"Hungry," Quatre rasps, grin wry.
Trowa nods and fetches the lunch tray. Settling once more at Quatre's bedside, he fills a spoon with soup and brings it to the other boy's mouth.
Quatre raises an eyebrow, but obediently parts his lips. "I can feed myself," he murmurs after swallowing.
"I know," Trowa replies, and loads the spoon again. "But I like taking care of you."
Quatre shakes his head, and lets him.
END