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Sleepy
Quatre's head nods forward against his will, causing him to quickly jerk it back up. Eyes view the inside of the SUV through a film of fuzziness that is begging him to sleep. A large yawn escapes his mouth, making his eyes water and become even fuzzier.
"Tired?" Quatre hears Trowa murmur from his right, his voice raspy from lack of sleep. Quatre nods, leaning over to rest his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. Another yawn builds in the back of Quatre's throat, forcing him to close his eyes as it leaves him.
A light chuckle echoes in the vehicle. "Rough night?" Duo asks, turning around in the seat in front of Quatre. He winks suggestively, a cheeky grin on his face.
Before Trowa can even think of a witty comment or a simple "shut it," Quatre flips the oldest braided pilot off, a glare on his face. Duo simply laughs before turning around in his seat once more. Does he really have to laugh so loud? Quatre wonders. Trowa wraps an arm around the blond's shoulders, "That's my Q." Quatre can hear the smile in his sleep-deprived voice.
"Remind me why we stayed up again," Quatre grumbles a few moments later, closing his eyes again.
Trowa slowly rubs circles with his thumb on his boyfriend's shoulder. "To watch the Challengers game, of course. How could we miss that?" he asks incredulously. Trowa had a thing for an L3 basketball team, a guilty pleasure one could say. The only problem is their games broadcast in the wee hours of the morning down on Earth. So of course they had to stay up and watch the game.
The things I do for love, Quatre thinks. He sighs. "But they lost."
It's Trowa's turn to grumble. "Salt in the wound, babe."
Rolling his closed eyes, Quatre opens them and tilts his head to look at his boyfriend. "Don't be such a wimp," Quatre says. Duo's laugh is louder than ever. The Sandrock pilot kicks his seat.
Trowa kisses Quatre's forehead with a laugh. "You're grumpy. Take a nap."
The blond glares at him, pouting pathetically. "I am not grumpy," he complains before snuggling into the brunet's side and closing his eyes.
"Whatever you say, love," Trowa singsongs through a yawn. "Just go to sleep."
Finally, Quatre gives in, relaxing against his boyfriend. "Okay. But don't let Duo draw on my face this time," he says, peeking an eye open to see Duo already halfway turned around in his seat with a Sharpie in hand.
"Aww, you're no fun," he whines before facing forward again.
Quatre sticks his tongue out at him even though he can't see. Then he drifts off into a deep sleep, curled into Trowa's side.