Disclaimer: I own nothing. 'Nuff said.
Pairings: 3x4
Rating: G

A/N: Written for DentelleNoir as an incentive to get her butt in gear and finish her essay. Yes, I held this ransom while she finished her History paper. I hope you like it, Ash!

Summary: 3x4 get-together fic. Quatre has never been fond of the Christmas holidays, but maybe this year, things will be different.

Christmas Lights

Quatre sighed as yet another group of carolers made their way down the path. He'd turned off the lights and closed the blinds so that no one would bother him tonight. Didn't these people have better things to do than to go around in the middle of winter singing and freezing themselves to death for people whom they didn't even know? He would never understand what the big deal was.

Sure, it did occur to him that the whole holiday was based on a religious event and he respected that. What really bothered him was how the whole 'holy day' as it were, had been mangled and mutilated beyond recognition by commercialism. Since early October, the gaudy decorations and annoyingly recycled music took over the stores' shelves. By November, said decorations not only littered the isles, but also invaded the décor inside and outside the stores and commercial areas of town. Tinsel, bells, string, ornaments, wreaths, nutcrackers, pot-bellied Santa Clauses, molting evergreens… all these things lined the walkways and display windows and even the lampposts downtown.

Happy holidays indeed.

The only perk to the whole ordeal of mass-shopping and mass-spending, aside from the influx in sales, was the presence of Christmas lights that adorned the houses at night.

Yes, the lights really made the whole craziness worth it.

He peeked out his window and noted with some relief that the carolers were gone, leaving him free to turn on a couple of lights and make himself some hot coco with marshmallows. It was too late to be drinking coffee; he'd never get to sleep on time if he indulged, and after he prepared his favored drink for the cold weather, he went to his window, opened the blinds, and watched the light displays from the houses across the street.

The lights made the houses look like candy.

One house had multi-colored lights that made it seem like some sort of gingerbread house. The walkway was lined with lit candy-canes and the trees were covered in lights as well – green on the leaves, and white on the trunks.

Its neighbor, on the other hand, looked like it was made of frosting. The lights were all white and adorned every edge of the house. The roof, the doorway, the windows, trees, shrubs, and even walkway were all covered in the twinkling white lights. The effect was made more pronounced by the layer of snow that covered his entire neighborhood. He couldn't decide which house he liked better; both catered to his sweet-tooth.

As he admired the houses, Quatre was jerked out of his thoughts when his doorbell rang. Who could it possibly be at this hour? The carolers had left the neighborhood and he hadn't been expecting company.

Setting his mug of steaming hot chocolate down, Quatre uncurled from his spot and went to answer the door. He was pleasantly surprised to see Trowa standing out there in the snow with a little box clutched in his hands. The object of his affection (though he was sure the feeling was one-sided) had never looked as good as he did in winter wear with his dark coat and emerald-toned sweater. Quatre hoped he wasn't drooling.

"Hi," the taller man said, "May I come in?"

"Oh!" Quatre squeaked, shaking himself at his inattention, "How rude of me! Come on in," he said, holding the door open for Trowa and shooing away his cat, who had curiously made her way over to see what the commotion was about.

"What brings you here?" Quatre asked, taking Trowa's coat and hanging it on a peg by the door after closing the door after him, "May I get you something to drink?"

"Sure," Trowa said, taking a seat while Quatre brought him a cup of hot chocolate as well.

"So… what brings you here?" Quatre asked, taking his seat again. "I thought you had something to go to."

"Cathy's Christmas party ended. She had to get the twins to bed… and I figured you'd be alone tonight," Trowa said, shifting a little closer to Quatre.

"You know I don't celebrate this day," Quatre said with a little frown, eying the box Trowa placed on his lap.

"No one should be alone on Christmas Eve, Quatre," Trowa said, "It's about more than just religion, it's about being with those you care about."

Quatre just sighed and looked down at the small box wrapped in blue paper and tied off with silver string. He couldn't be rude and refuse the gift, but he felt like a heel for not having something to give Trowa in return.

"I don't have anything for you," he said, protesting weakly.

"It doesn't matter," Trowa said, "It's better to give than receive. Go on, open it."

Quatre did so, and nearly dropped the gift when he opened the small jeweler's case in his hand. Inside was what looked like a silver ring with snowflakes etched into it. Looking up in confusion, he couldn't stop himself from asking what was on his mind.

"What is this?" Quatre whispered.

He'd harbored a crush on the taller man for a long time and though the whole world knew he was gay, and only half of it knew how he felt toward his friend, he didn't think Trowa would ever consider anything more than friendship, so he'd never brought it up. In Quatre's mind, it was better to have a good friend in Trowa, than no friend at all. He didn't dare hope that the ring was anything more than something given in friendship, even though reason told him that this was a rather expensive gift for just a friend.

"It is white gold," Trowa said, his cheeks turning an uncharacteristic shade of pink, "I know silver doesn't agree with you."

Well that just brought the price of the gift up, Quatre thought. But... what was Trowa getting at?

"It's beautiful," Quatre said, but didn't move to put it on just yet. The design, though slightly feminine, was set on a masculine band without being overbearing, which suited Quatre perfectly.

"Listen, Quat," Trowa said, taking a chance and holding onto Quatre's wrist. "I know you're gay and I know I may not be your type, but, I promise I'll do my best to do right by you. I don't have a lot and I know I can't possibly compare to any of the men I'm sure you have lined up, but I just want a chance. You and I have been really good friends for a long time and if you're not interested, I'll understand. I just want… let me try to be the one that makes you happy."

Trowa's tirade was not only unexpected, but completely mind blowing for the man who had already written having him a lost cause. He blinked stupidly and shook himself out of his stupor. It must be all the sugar he was ingesting; it was tampering with his ability to reason.

"What exactly are you asking me, with this?" Quatre said carefully gesturing to the ring in his hand and trying not to get his hopes up, though it was hard after Trowa's admission.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" Trowa asked, letting out a breath. His entire posture was tense, expecting rejection, but trying to avoid the heartache, "That sounded so... cliche! I'm sorry... I'm making an ass of myself. You don't have to say yes. You can keep the ring… it reminded me of you. It's only right that you should have it."

"It reminded you of me?" Quatre asked, forestalling his answer.

"It's solid, and beautiful, obviously masculine with feminine attributes. The snowflakes also remind me of you, beautiful, cool, and completely unique," Trowa said, looking a bit flustered. It looked like he was about to burst with nervous energy and reminded Quatre somewhat of a cornered hare ready to bolt.

"This is… rather sudden," Quatre said, fingering the cool band of metal. He watched as Trowa seemed to deflate, his proof that Trowa was serious and hadn't been put up to it. Not that he would play such a cruel joke, Quatre thought, but he was so afraid of being hurt, and Trowa was one man who could hurt him like that.

"But…" Quatre added, watching Trowa lift his sad green eyes as he slipped the band from its resting place in the box and onto his finger, "It's something I've wanted for a long time."

"Really?" Trowa asked his voice thick with emotion.

"Really."

"In that case…" Trowa said, "May I kiss you? I have mistletoe." He then produced a small sprig from his pocket and held it over Quatre's head.

Quatre laughed and gave him a little nod before moving closer to Trowa and allowing him to give the best kiss Quatre had ever gotten.

Maybe this Christmas thing wouldn't be so bad in the future… Now he had three things to look forward to: Mistletoe, Trowa's kisses, and of course, the lights outside his window.

OWARI