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"What is this place?" Trowa asked, pulling the curtains open.
"Katmandu," Quatre replied, walking past Trowa and entering the establishment.
The lights were dimmed and there was Arabic music sounding in the background. The walls were painted in lively colors, long elaborate lamps hung from the ceiling, Persian carpets covered the floors and there were decorations everywhere. A wooden elephant against a corner, a three feet tall backgammon set, a long colorful tapestry hanging on the wall…
Trowa followed Quatre to another room, smaller, more intimate. It was decorated like the first one, filled with different things here and there. There were short tables in the four corners and many cushions of different sizes around them. Quatre moved to the far one. There was a small wooden screen beside it, and when they were both sitting comfortably on the cushions, leaning on the wall, the waiter that had showed them in pushed the screen in front of them, so they were practically hidden from the rest of the room in their private little corner.
"Wow," Trowa said.
"I know," Quatre replied, moving closer to Trowa.
"You come here a lot?"
"A couple of times with Duo." Quatre must have noticed something in Trowa's expression because he quickly added, "not in this room, though. There's a bigger room in the back, for larger crowds and friends. Not so intimate."
Trowa smiled and wondered if the relief showed in his face. "So, what's good here?"
Quatre grinned. "Ever smoked Arabian pipe?"
Trowa shook his head and Quatre smile brightened. "You are in for a treat."
Trowa tried not to frown and just nodded once. The truth was that he didn't like smoking at all. Heero had once got him to try a cigar and he had hated that too, but he didn't want to disappoint Quatre, so he was willing to try the Arabian pipe.
The drinks arrived first. Trowa and Quatre drank their beers, talking about friends and school. A few minutes later, the pipe arrived. Whatever Trowa had imagined, the tall, elegant and exotic looking pipe wasn't what he had been expecting. The waiter settled it on the table and left. There was a large glass bowl with water inside it, over it was a long tube and on top a single coal burned. Two pipes, lined with colorful threads and a plastic filter at the end, were connected to the tube.
"Try it," Quatre said, and handed him one of the pipes. "Suck on it as if you were drinking from a straw." He took the other pipe to his mouth and demonstrated. He exhaled the smoke slowly, and licked his lips.
Trowa gulped. It took all his self control not to push Quatre against the wall and kiss him then and there. He was tempted but he wouldn't let Quatre win, not without a fight. Slowly, he brought the pipe to his lips. He tried to smoke as if it was a cigarette, but nothing happened. Like drinking from a straw, Trowa thought, and did just that. The smoke wasn't very strong and surprisingly, Trowa wasn't disgusted by the taste, he actually kind of liked it. He exhaled slowly.
"Strawberry," said Quatre and took another drag. "My favorite." The smoke left his mouth as he spoke.
This time, Trowa held the smoke in his mouth for a moment. Quatre was looking at him. Trowa parted his lips slightly and let the smoke out. He had seen that look of desire in Quatre's eyes many times before, and he loved it.
Quatre had dropped his pipe on the table. Trowa took another drag, held the smoke and pressed his lips to Quatre's. Quatre parted his lips, the smoke entering his mouth and exciting through his nose as they kissed. Trowa pulled back and smirked. He handed Quatre his pipe and took a swig of his beer. He liked this game, and they had the entire night to play.