Disclaimer: I don't own GW, or the boys – if I did, I'd have a much merrier holiday season. They are, however, on my wish list.
Warning: No real timeline, other than the fact that it's during the holiday season (that would be December).
Not much of a location. It could be AU. Or not. You decide.
A little bit of shounen-ai. Lots of fluffy snow, it's Christmas, after all!
All I Want For Christmas
Part One
The concert hall was packed. Every single seat was filled and there were even people standing in the back, lining the walls.
It was a holiday concert, and there were several different groups performing various pieces: everything from children's classics like 'Frosty the Snow Man' and 'Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer' to the Hallelujah Chorus and other selections from Handel's Messiah.
The choir were superb, the orchestras flawless. And the audience was properly appreciative, either sitting in rapt silence or enthusiastically joining in, and loudly applauding in all the right places.
As the concert neared its end, the final orchestra stuck up a rousing rendition of 'Sleigh Ride.' The audience was still cheering as the musicians cleared the stage, leaving only a young boy with golden hair and a violin.
As the noise from the crowd started to fade, the violinist began his song.
It was a new piece, something no one knew, but, though it had no words, it captured the soul of the season, and no one had any doubt that it was meant for just that occasion. There was something in it that captured the heart of everyone present, evoking the very spirit of the holidays as it danced along. It was part joyous tune: of sleigh-rides and fancy clothes, of whirling waltzes and children's delight in beribboned presents under cheerfully decked trees. It was part somber melody: or glowing candles and prayers chanted in half-known languages, or stories of long ago and wishes for the future. And it was part soothing whisper: or crackling fires and hot chocolate, of deep, white snow and family.
The notes rose and fell, first barely louder than a breath, then crashing into the spellbound stillness, then retreating to quiet sweetness once more.
Offstage, hidden in part by the heavy curtain, stood another boy, the same age as the violinist. He'd left the stage with the rest of the orchestra, but had waited to hear the violin, not even bothering to put away his flute. His green eyes, one hidden by his hair, tracked the blond's every move.
When the piece ended, stunned silence reigned. No one moved. The only sound was the fading ring of the final notes, hanging almost frozen in the air.
Then someone started to clap. Within a heartbeat, the entire hall was on its feet, the thunder of its approval almost deafening.
The young musician gave an awkward bow, face flushing to a brilliant holiday scarlet at the honor of a standing ovation, and hastened from the stage. In his rush, he plunged headlong into the curtain, barreling straight into the green-eyed brunet.
"Tro!" the blond exclaimed, blue eyes lighting up as he recognized the victim behind the curtain.
"It was beautiful, Cat," Trowa said softly.
Quatre blushed again, and impulsively threw his arms around the taller boy's neck. "I was playing for you," he whispered.
Trowa tightened his grip on the younger boy's waist. "I know."
Quatre pulled back slightly so he could look the other boy in the face. "Tro – "
"Quatre!" a group of women appeared through the curtains, and the boys pulled apart.
"Fantastic job!" one of the women gushed.
"Absolutely marvelous!" raved another.
"Excellent performance, Winner," added one of several men joining the group around the young violin player.
Trowa caught the blond's eye for a moment, then took the violin and slid unnoticed from the crowd. He went downstairs to the greenroom, leaving Quatre to his fans. Gently, he put away the violin, then his own flute, after cleaning it carefully.
When he was done, the blue-eyed musician was still MIA, and Trowa decided that it was past time he rescued the young artiste from his adoring public.
Quatre, Trowa quickly discovered, had only made it as far as the stairs leading from the backstage area. He was still surrounded.
"Great job tonight, Barton," one of the men in the group slapped Trowa on the back as the boy moved past him.
"You, too, Anderson," Trowa nodded at the man, then slipped through the throng to Quatre's side. "Ready to go?" he asked in an undertone.
"Please," came the almost inaudible plea.
"Do you need to go to the greenroom before the party?" one of the younger women asked at the same time.
"Of course not!" one of the other women exclaimed just as Quatre opened his mouth to reply. "It's practically his party, after all. He wouldn't want to be late!"
The blond musician gave Trowa a trapped glance as they were swept off to the Christmas Eve party that was being held for the performers in one of the large rooms below the concert hall.
Nearly two hours after the end of the concert, Quatre managed to get away from the crowds by excusing himself to the bathroom.
Trowa found him there fifteen minutes later.
"I wondered if you'd fallen in," the flutist quipped when he discovered the blond perched on the sink counter, head back against the wall, dozing.
"Tro! Thank goodness!" the boy launched himself off the counter. "I thought I was going to die in here!"
Trowa chuckled.
"You have to get me out!" Quatre raced on. "I can't take any more of it!"
"And you can't just tell them to leave you alone." It wasn't a question.
"That would be rude," was the unnecessary reply.
"Of course," Trowa nodded in sympathetic understanding, though his green eyes were laughing. "Lucky for you, I have a plan."
"Really?"
"Really. Now, go mingle again – don't worry, it'll only be for a few minutes – and when I give you the signal, meet me outside the stage door. I'll be waiting."
"But how will I get away?"
"It won't be a problem. Trust me."
"But – "
"Trust me."
Aqua eyes bet emerald for a long moment, then the yellow head nodded.
"All right. What's the signal?"
"You'll know it when you hear it," was the evasive response.
"When I hear it? Trowa!"
"Trust me!" the brunet winked, and vanished, the door swinging silently shut behind him.
Quatre grumbled about people who got a kick out of abandoning those who really needed them, but returned to the party as he'd been told.
Barely five minutes later, a deafening ringing noise filled the air.
There was a sudden stampede for the exits.
Quatre grinned. "I'll know it when I hear it," he muttered, and headed for the stage door.