Title: attention-getting maneuvers
Fandom: Marvel Comics (West Coast Avengers)
Pairing: Gwen Poole/Quentin Quire
Rating: PG-13
Length: 476 words
Content Notes: No major warnings apply, contains kissing with other things implied.
Summary: a dropped mug in the sparring room leads to other things



Gwen was skipping across the sparring room while carrying her favorite pink penguin mug when the heat from the hot cocoa made her hand slip and the mug dropped down towards the floor. She scrambled to catch it. She didn’t want to miss out on that chocolatey and melty marshmallow goodness, only to find it floating in the air in front of her. It was even mostly safe and sound and about three-quarters full.

“What do you even think you’re doing, Poole?” Quentin looked angry, which was totally kind of cute and kinda maybe a problem. Angry Quentin did something warm and fuzzy to her. This gave her way too much incentive to tick him off. A lot.

“You know there are no open containers allowed in the sparring room. Water bottles only.” Quentin’s cheeks were seriously pink and his hands were all curled up into tight fists. He also had this slightly serious and just a bit snarky look on his face.

Gwen smiled and then tried (and failed) to cover it up. “Oops,” she said.

“Oops? That’s all you have to say?” Quentin’s cheeks got even pinker.

Gwen watched her mug float gently to the table by the door. “Sorry?” Gwen giggled. She just couldn’t help herself.

Quentin took a deep breath and Gwen could just tell he was silently counting in his head, presumably to calm himself down.

Gwen spotted something moving out of the corner of her eye. Kate. Quentin must have been sparring with her. Gwen saw Kate quickly and quietly gather her gear and slip out the door, grabbing the mug on the way out.

Gwen turned back to Quentin and stepped just a little bit closer. Another step and now she could feel the heat of him.

“I know what you’re doing, Gwen.” Quentin’s voice was low.

“Whatever could I be doing, Quentin?” She liked saying his name. It was entirely ridiculous. Quintavius Quirinius Quire. Who named their character that? Way too many Qs. She adored it. Gwen bit her lip and took another step closer.

Quentin growled. He actually growled. A giggle escaped her a moment before he closed the gap between them and smashed his lips to hers. Kissing - another totally ridiculous thing, yet wholly enjoyable with him. Gwen kissed him back and let him not too gently maneuver her against the wall.

Later when they were languishing on the sparring room floor utterly and delightfully spent, Quentin took her hand and entangled his fingers with hers. “You know you don’t have to drop things to get my attention.” His voice was quiet and relaxed in a way it rarely was outside of moments like this.

“I know, but it’s fun,” she said.

Quentin sighed but it sounded more satisfied than exasperated. Gwen smiled, snuggled closer, and rested her head on his chest. Sparring was fun.