Caffeine Addiction
A Gundam Wing Fanfic
By:
Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I *did*, the series
would be chock-full of shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which
occur in this fic.
WARNINGS for... Yaoi/shounen ai and implications thereof. Need for caffeinated beverages. Free
love. 1x2x3x4x5 (and combinations thereof) implied. This is complete and utter fluff on
my part.
Spoilers: There are no spoilers for this fic, though general knowledge of GW would be
helpful.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Quatre stumbled into the kitchen blearily, a huge yawn nearly causing him to run into the
wall.
"COFFEE..." he verbalized, scratching his head and leaving a trail of blue glitter in his
wake. He and the others had barely fallen asleep a few hours before, despite the fact that
they had all tumbled into bed in a tangle of arms and legs rather early in the night. Why the
blond boy was currently shivering in the kitchen of the safehouse, Quatre had no idea. He
always woke up at the same time, no matter how tired he was. As Quatre finally opened
his eyes enough to see what he was doing, he was still not conscious enough to anything
but watch the coffee drip through the machine and into the pot. He rubbed his bare arms
absently and shifted his position enough to cause the black pants riding low on his hips to
slip a fraction farther down.
There was a scuffle and a thump and Duo weaved into the kitchen unsteadily.
He was wearing a familiar pair of spandex shorts.
And nothing else.
And his hair was down.
Long lengths of messy chestnut hair fell across his bare back and shoulders, spilling down
to brush the backs of his knees. He, too, collapsed on the counter by the coffee machine.
After a moment, he cast a weary glance at Quatre.
"Those are my pants."
"So?"
"Those are my pants."
"And?"
"I'm not Hee-chan. I don't like spandex."
"Then tell me where my shorts are and I'll give you back your pants."
Quatre's Little Little Shorts stumbled into the kitchen. They were attached to Heero.
"Those are my shorts."
"Those are *still* my pants."
"Hn."
Wufei wandered in. He was swallowed up by the green long-sleeved dress shirt he was
wrapped in. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the rest of the shirt brushed his
upper thighs, only half of the buttons done up. Wufei brushed inky black strands away
from his face as he yawned.
"Coffee ready?"
Quatre and Duo and Heero looked at the percolating machine.
"No."
"Hn."
"Those are still my pants."
Wufei swore in Chinese and collapsed into a chair. He jumped up just as quickly, rubbing
his bottom. "Ow! Dammit!"
Duo snorted from where he was leaning against the counter.
"Why d'ya think I was standing up, 'Fei?"
"Shut up, Duo."
"I hope no one really minds that I can't remember what happened last night."
There were three grunts of affirmation.
"It might be on tape. I'm not sure." Quatre was still cradling his head in his hands and
didn't even bother to look up as he spoke.
"I'll be sure to destroy the original," a new voice answered softly. Trowa finally appeared
unsteadily, clad only in a short robe that he was having difficulty tying. He looked around
the kitchen.
"That's my shirt."
"That's my robe."
"Those are my shorts."
"Those are *my* shorts."
"Well, y'all better enjoy me in these shorts 'cuz NONE of you are getting NEAR my ass in
a long time."
There was a muted laughter and then a low groan of pain.
"Coffee done?"
-- Owari --
A Gundam Wing Fanfic
By:
Sailor Seraphim
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author's Notes:
I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I *did*, the series
would be chock-full of shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which
occur in this fic.
WARNINGS for... Yaoi/shounen ai and implications thereof. Need for caffeinated beverages. Free
love. 1x2x3x4x5 (and combinations thereof) implied. This is complete and utter fluff on
my part.
Spoilers: There are no spoilers for this fic, though general knowledge of GW would be
helpful.
Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Quatre stumbled into the kitchen blearily, a huge yawn nearly causing him to run into the
wall.
"COFFEE..." he verbalized, scratching his head and leaving a trail of blue glitter in his
wake. He and the others had barely fallen asleep a few hours before, despite the fact that
they had all tumbled into bed in a tangle of arms and legs rather early in the night. Why the
blond boy was currently shivering in the kitchen of the safehouse, Quatre had no idea. He
always woke up at the same time, no matter how tired he was. As Quatre finally opened
his eyes enough to see what he was doing, he was still not conscious enough to anything
but watch the coffee drip through the machine and into the pot. He rubbed his bare arms
absently and shifted his position enough to cause the black pants riding low on his hips to
slip a fraction farther down.
There was a scuffle and a thump and Duo weaved into the kitchen unsteadily.
He was wearing a familiar pair of spandex shorts.
And nothing else.
And his hair was down.
Long lengths of messy chestnut hair fell across his bare back and shoulders, spilling down
to brush the backs of his knees. He, too, collapsed on the counter by the coffee machine.
After a moment, he cast a weary glance at Quatre.
"Those are my pants."
"So?"
"Those are my pants."
"And?"
"I'm not Hee-chan. I don't like spandex."
"Then tell me where my shorts are and I'll give you back your pants."
Quatre's Little Little Shorts stumbled into the kitchen. They were attached to Heero.
"Those are my shorts."
"Those are *still* my pants."
"Hn."
Wufei wandered in. He was swallowed up by the green long-sleeved dress shirt he was
wrapped in. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and the rest of the shirt brushed his
upper thighs, only half of the buttons done up. Wufei brushed inky black strands away
from his face as he yawned.
"Coffee ready?"
Quatre and Duo and Heero looked at the percolating machine.
"No."
"Hn."
"Those are still my pants."
Wufei swore in Chinese and collapsed into a chair. He jumped up just as quickly, rubbing
his bottom. "Ow! Dammit!"
Duo snorted from where he was leaning against the counter.
"Why d'ya think I was standing up, 'Fei?"
"Shut up, Duo."
"I hope no one really minds that I can't remember what happened last night."
There were three grunts of affirmation.
"It might be on tape. I'm not sure." Quatre was still cradling his head in his hands and
didn't even bother to look up as he spoke.
"I'll be sure to destroy the original," a new voice answered softly. Trowa finally appeared
unsteadily, clad only in a short robe that he was having difficulty tying. He looked around
the kitchen.
"That's my shirt."
"That's my robe."
"Those are my shorts."
"Those are *my* shorts."
"Well, y'all better enjoy me in these shorts 'cuz NONE of you are getting NEAR my ass in
a long time."
There was a muted laughter and then a low groan of pain.
"Coffee done?"
-- Owari --