by Hex
Apologies: Written for Showering!Quatre month (April, yeah, I'm late I know). Not at all what I planned when I heard it was Showering!Quatre month ;__; So much for sex.
Quatre felt his knees shake slightly. He tugged at the knot in his tie and fidgeted slightly. He was hot, unbearably hot, and uncomfortable. He tossed his briefcase onto the bed and made his way into the bathroom. Quatre couldn't seem to keep his legs from quaking. His stomach twisted as he shimmied out of his pants and hauled his shirt off. Quatre pushed his underwear down around his ankles and stepped out of them. He leaned heavily on the wall to take off his socks and stepped into the shower.
Quatre turned the taps to cold and shivered as the water hit him. He took deep, gasping breaths and swished the water in his mouth before spitting it out. The spray of a cold shower always felt like having tiny bits of hail slamming into the body, but Quatre relished the sensation for once. He was unbearably hot. The heat was making him nauseous and woozy. Quatre's legs were shaking so badly his knees were practically knocking. He slid down the wall of the shower and sat down, pulling his knees to his chest. Quatre rested his head on his knees and rocked on his backside. He closed his eyes and tried to relax a bit.
"Quatre? What are you doing home so-" Trowa's question died on his lips. Quatre glanced up at his husband before resting his head back on his knees. Trowa slid the glass shower doors out of the way and pressed his hand gently to Quatre's back. "Jesus, Quatre, you look awful."
"Sick," was Quatre's only response.
"Why don't you get out of the shower and into bed?"
Trowa reached into the shower and turned the spray off. He soaked the arm of his shirt in the process. He gently rubbed Quatre's arm and gave his husband a small smile. Quatre bolted out of the bathtub, shoving Trowa to the side roughly. He made it to the toilet just in time. The entire contents of Quatre's stomach splashed into the toilet from the rebellious heave his body gave. Quatre gagged and shook until the spasm passed then deflated against the toilet, resting his head against the bowl.
"Here." Quatre gave Trowa a grateful smile as a cold cloth was pressed against his forehead. "Let me help you up."
Trowa supported Quatre and helped him maneuver to the sink. Once there, Quatre brushed his teeth and washed his face. They made their way to the bed, it was awkward with Quatre's shaky knees and Trowa petting and murmuring to him, but it was managed.
Quatre shoved all of the covers except the sheet to the foot of the bed and then curled into the fetal position. He pressed his face into the pillows and clenched his eyes shut.
"Trowa, would you go buy me some 7up or Ginger Ale?" Quatre asked. Trowa let out a mildly relieved sigh.
"Sure. I'll be back soon."
Trowa kissed him on the forehead and was out of the room in a flash. He was back in seconds, snagging a dry shirt and left the room again with a strange smile on his face. Quatre would have smiled back if his stomach hadn't been knotting. Trowa could handle any number of disgusting things, from body wounds involving exposed entrails to cadavers but give him bile and he ran away like a little girl. Quatre would have laughed but he was pretty sure it would have made him vomit again.
Quatre hauled the sheet up to his ears and buried himself into his bed. He hated being sick.
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