Author's Notes: It has been a long time since I have written anything, and this is my first ever Gundam Wing attempt. I am a bit worried about how this turned out, and any review at all will be very much appreciated. Heero, surprisingly, is very hard to write. I'm a bit worried about Wufei as well. But I figured if he's bitchy when he talks, then he'll be even more so in his mind. I would appreciate it if you critic my story on characterization. Granted, it won't be perfect, because this is far from serious and some might call it a bit humorous. But I still want you to judge it for that. I'm a bit worried about that.
Extra Notes: For any Strange Magic fans, or even those of you who aren't, I would appreciate it if you would take my poll. It's to determine exactly how many people want me to continue with Strange Magic. The end result might not conclude in anything. But I would appreciate it if you took it.
Warnings: As I warned in the summary, this is 1X5/HeeroXWufei, and, since they are both male, that means this is slash. If you do not like slash, I would appreciate it if you pressed the back button. Any ridicule expressed because of the pairing will be laughed at. I warned you twice. Also, this will have some perverted comments and swearing in it. If either of the aforementioned upsets up, please do not read it. Press the back button. Altogether, this is a T-rated fic.
Failed Mission
By yllom21
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing.
Wufei was seriously beginning to think that the world was out to get him.
Wufei always woke up at 0530 in the morning. Period. There was no 0531, that was not perfect enough; he always woke up at 0530 on the dot. He could go to bed after drinking several glasses of wine at 0300 in the morning and he would still wake up at 0530. He could go to bed with half his body broken and he would still wake up at 0530.
But for some strange reason he didn't wake up at 0530. It was inexcusable, it was not allowed. Chang Wufei, Gundam Pilot 05, only survivor of his colony, and all around badass,did not wake up at 0707. He just didn't. It was enough for him to commit ritual suicide.
But not only did he wake up late. For some unexplainable reason he couldn't find his hair ties. His apartment was neater than perfect soldier Yuy's (whose pantry was alphabetized); his books were placed in alphabetical order by author, his spices were arranged so they were placed in order of use, his dirty clothes were always in his laundry basket and his hair ties were placed in the drawer near his bed.
But they weren't there.
He had at least a dozen hair ties, maybe a score, and not a single, damn one of them was there. It was impossible. There was no way in hell that he, the neat freak that he was, had displaced them. No way in fucking hell. But they weren't there. And he spent a good ten minutes running around his apartment in search of the elusive hair ties. But he couldn't find a single one. And, when in desperation, he decided he would use a rubberband instead, he turned up empty handed. When he looked in the closet he usually stored them in, they too were missing. There was no way in hell that he, the man that had never misplaced anything, would lose a dozen hair ties and boxes of rubberbands. It was so frustrating that he debated going into a homicidal rage in the name of Nataku instead of committing ritual suicide. Maybe he would commit both.
But, while he was pondering the likelihood of him getting away after committing murder, especially when there was a great likelihood of him yelling such phrases as "injustice" and "in the name of Nataku", which would more likely than not give him away, he realized that he was running extremely late. But, since nothing else bad could happen, he figured he would manage to get to the office in time if he ignored all speeding limits.
But, no, that didn't even begin to describe the horrendous phenomenon that was his morning. When he realized that running around in the nude in hopes of finding an elusive rubberband was only going to result in him being even more late, he pushed aside his homicidal and suicidal thoughts and instead looked for his Preventer's uniform. They, thankfully, were not missing, but they were stained. Every, single, fucking one of them. All five of his uniforms, which had been fine and pristine last night, were all covered in some putrid substance that made him gag. Luckily enough it was casual day, and although he never usually participated in such frivolous days as "casual days" (They were an honorable fighting unit in charge of keeping peace. Honorable fighting units did not participate in such events as "casual days". What the fuck was Une thinking? Valentine's Day had been bad enough!) it would at least allow him to go into work without his uniform and not be stared at by his coworkers or lectured by Une, who was letting out her scary personality more and more often (it had been especially bad when Maxwell had ruined the coffee machine).
His anger had escalated to such a degree that his mental musings had gone past Cantonese swear words, and he actually began to dabble into German and Greek. When he, in search of his formal Chinese robes, found that they, too, were ruined, he no longer cared about keeping his musings silent and began to yell Russian swear words to the general world. His anger was soothed when he realized he woke up the entire floor, as well as the floor above and the floor below. But then he realized that he had nothing to wear.
And so that was how Chang Wufei, residential badass (or runner-up when you take Yuy into account) found himself an hour late to work, his hair in a general disarray because he had rode his motorcycle there with unbound hair, and wearing scarily tight jeans that Maxwell repetitively bought for him but he refused to wear.
He snarled at that thought. Chang Wufei did not wake up late. Chang Wufei did not lose his hair ties. Chang Wufei did not stain his clothes and not clean them right away. Therefore, a second party had to be involved. A second party that was annoying, a pain in the ass, and skillful in the art of lock picking. Therefore, the idiotic asshole, Maxwell, had to be involved. It didn't matter that Maxwell was not in town, let alone on the same planet as him. Only one person could be so annoying as to actually ruin his clothes and steal his hair ties. And although he wasn't sure how Maxwell kept him from waking up, he was involved somehow. He had to be. Because, if he wasn't, that meant he lost the only bit of sanity he had left, and he refused to live out his life in an asylum. Injustice!
While storming throughout the halls he realized that the general populace was staring at him. He let lose a glare that would actually outshine Yuy's and they hurriedly looked away. Their obvious cowardice was enough to soothe his frayed nerves, and he contemplated letting Maxwell live, although he would certainly loose a limb or two. Maybe three.
"MAXWELL!" He screamed, causing several people to duck under their desks to survive from the crossfire. He pushed open the door to Maxwell's office, only to see Maxwell's desk empty, and Barton looking at him in obvious confusion.
"Maxwell's at L2," Barton, who shared the office with Maxwell, informed him in his curt, short manner that he usually used, before looking away from him and to his computer in obvious dismissal. Obviously, his glare hadn't entered into homicidal yet; Barton would have at least noticed it if it had.
"He's not back yet?" Wufei managed to spit out in a somewhat polite demeanor. Barton shook his head in an obvious show of refusal before backtracking, "You're hair looks nice down, Chang. You should wear it down more often." He then turned back to his computer, not realizing that his comment had caused Wufei to go past homicidal and into 'destroy the planet' mode. Stupid fucker.
Wufei, not realizing what to do when his plans to strangle Maxwell were disrupted by Maxwell's absence, headed to his office in autopilot. It wasn't until he reached his office that he realized that he had a stash of hair ties in his drawer. Feeling elated for the second time that morning (the first was when he realized his boxers had been spared) he headed to his desk in search of his hair ties, only to come up empty handed again. This time, the general populace in the radius of a quarter of a mile got to experience his expertise in Portuguese. Stupid fuckers anyway. Didn't they realize the world was being extra unjust today?
Yuy, who he shared his office with, only looked over after he decided Portuguese was getting lame and he began to swear in Vietnamese; at the rate he was going even he, the scholar, would run out of languages to swear in. Oh, the injustice!
"Nice ass," Yuy informed him, before he began clanking on his always-present-laptop. Wufei nodded along, not done with his use of Dutch adjectives, before he realized what Yuy had said. His face, shamefully, turned a bright red. He cursed himself and his prudishness. He was used to people talking dirty to him; his Oz captors had informed him over and over again of how beautiful he was and exactly what parts of his body could be used for what. Obviously, they were really horny and weren't having enough sex. Why else would they refer to somewhat like him as pretty? However, now was not the time to stroll down memory lane. Yuy had just had a Maxwell moment. It was enough to stall any homicidal tendencies and cause him to want to run through the halls screaming about the end of the world. The general shock had already passed and he was still fighting the urge to jump under his desk. He was about to yell at Yuy and claim the injustice of the situation, when he realized that there was no way in hell that Yuy would have made such a comment. Obviously, the severe injustice that was his day (that Maxwell was still the cause of, damn it, who cared if he was thousands of light-years away?) had edged away his sanity until he was imagining Yuy saying perverted comments.
By the time Wufei managed to wake himself out of his stupor, he realized he had been at work for over an hour, and he hadn't touch a single piece of work. Pushing away the trauma he was currently facing, he pulled out some paperwork and began to work. And, steadily, for an hour, he forgot about the fact that Maxwell could somehow make his life hell when he wasn't even on the same planet (it was Maxwell's fault, and no logical reasoning was going to make him see otherwise).
But, obviously, the day hadn't been hellish enough for him already, and he had to suffer through another trauma filled event before lunch. While he was debating if a comma was needed in a certain sentence, he overheard his co-workers talking. Yuy had left over a half hour ago, and he had asked him to keep the door open because it was over 85 degrees in the room and Une refused to buy an air conditioner (she always seemed to be in 'bad Lady Une' mood whenever someone gathered up the courage to ask). Therefore, he could hear his co-workers talking, and, although it was distracting, he managed to ignore them until he heard his name pop up.
"Did you see Preventer Chang today?" One of secretaries whispered, obviously trying to keep the conversation private, but still somehow managing to get the attention of all the surrounding people. Wufei, pretending to be working, felt his eyebrow twitch. Yes, he knew he looked ridiculous in the tight jeans Maxwell had purchased for him (another folly of Maxwell's), but did they actually have to talk about it? They were in a professional environment, damn it, and he was right down the hall!
"Oh, my, god," one of the preventers exclaimed, and it was enough to almost force Wufei to look away from his computer. Preventer Smith was over 6 feet and was definitely more masculine looking then him (so was the majority of the male population, damn it), why was he squealing in such a feminine manner? It was a disgrace to men everywhere! "I mean, we all knew he was gorgeous. But he hides himself all the time. His ass is even better than I imagined. And I didn't realize his hair was so long, and his legs…" Wufei almost dismissed listening any longer to the conversation. Smith was obviously being deprived of sex, just like those Oz people that had stared at him in a scary, lustful manner. But, Wufei realized with a start, that couldn't be true. Wufei knew Smith was having plenty of sex, because he heard him going at it in a broom closet with a female Preventer just the other day. Perhaps they were mocking him, and because of the distance he couldn't hear the sarcasm in his voice.
But then everybody else began to chime in, and there were too many people, and they were talking so loud, that Wufei realized they weren't being sarcastic. It was in the middle of a debate about just how flexible he was, and how that would contribute in the bed, that he couldn't take it anymore (also, in mortification, he realized the he was extremely flexible, and he could probably perform all the moves the goddamn perverts were squealing about). He stood up, making enough noise to halt the perverts from their conversation, and quickly headed towards the bathroom. Their conversation ceased immediately, and, in panic, he realized that the entire room was staring at his ass when he exited the room.
Once he made it to the men's room, he didn't bother with the urinal, and quickly went to the mirror, glad no one else was in the bathroom and he could have some privacy while he was going through a mental breakdown. He squinted at the mirror and tried to determine exactly why the entire world seemed to think he was gorgeous. Because, surely, he wasn't.
He was short. Embarrassingly short. Shorter that Winner short. Wasn't the "it" thing to be tall? Wufei wasn't sure; he was too busy either working as a Preventer, making himself an even better swordsman, or studying his scholarly tombs. He did not socialize, nor was he aware of what the general population saw as hot. But surely he wasn't the epitome of hot. He was 5'5'', and his hair, while it did go to the middle of his back and could be referred to as long, was far from glamorous. His eyes were dark, and nothing to boast about. He didn't have a 6-pack, he was too lean and petite for that, and he was as ugly as they come.
Suddenly, something began to sting, and it came to his attention that he was almost upset enough to cry. He rubbed himself angrily. He was Chang Wufei! Gundam Pilot 05! Only survivor of L5! Master of the sword! He was not going to cry because his co-workers were idiots and he was bad at identifying sarcasm. He had to focus on angry thoughts! Focus on the fact that Maxwell had gained telepathic powers and was somehow ruining his life on L2. Yes, focus on that. Focus on ways to strangle Maxwell with his braid. Focus on happy, happy thoughts.
However, all those thoughts went done the drain when he opened the door to the bathroom in time to hear about how passionate he was about everything (he wouldn't call it passion, more like sheer rage) and how that would not only translate in bed, but also in a general relationship. "And he's so petite!" one had clamored, as if that was a good thing. The only thing that was good for was for sneaking around in the ventilation system. Embarrassingly enough, he was the only Gundam Pilot that could still do that, and was probably the only Preventer.
He contemplated returning to the bathroom, because he could not handle this shit now, not when his low-self esteem was beginning to roar its angry head off. He began to head out of the building, and, after checking his watch and realizing he was almost at his lunch hour, decided not to settle for the Preventer's café like he normally did, and instead go to the nice Chinese restaurant down the street. They served good Wonton Soup and had a fantastic Shrimp Cho Mein. And, since he felt like crap and decided he wanted to spoil himself, he bought some Egg Rolls as well. He would just box the extras and eat them for dinner. And probably for lunch the next day.
After he stabbed a few dumplings with his chopsticks, he felt marginally better and began to mentally plan battles of mass destruction against his fellow Preventers that had fallen into the negatives on his mental scale and would never, ever redeem themselves. There would be guns involved, and explosives. And, of course, naturally, many, many would die at the hands of his sword. He began to fantasize so widely that his Nataku managed to revive herself from the scrap pile, and he was using her to destroy not just the perverted assholes, but the entire Preventer building. Only Barton, Yuy, Sally Po and Une would survive (neither Winner nor Maxwell were there, although he was still having some serious doubts about Maxwell). He forced himself to stop, however. Because Chang Wufei did not care about such things as the fact that his co-workers thought he was ugly. Only stupid, stupid women cared about such things, and Wufei was the farthest thing from feminine. It didn't matter that he had long hair or was 5'5''. He was the epitome of masculinity.
It wasn't until he had finished his soup and begun on his Cho Mein that he heard the door open, and almost had a heart attack when he saw who it was. Heero Yuy did not participate in such frivolous things as leaving the Preventer's building for lunch. He didn't care about the fact that the café had crappy food, nor did he allow himself the time off. The only time he took to rest his head was the trip to the café and back. He got his food, and ate it while he reviewed figures. Heero Yuy did not leave the building for lunch.
Yet he was here, in a totally uncharacteristic expenditure. It came to Wufei, suddenly, that Yuy had another out of character moment earlier that day, when he had complimented his ass. But he had imagined that, Wufei reassured himself. And something was probably wrong with the café, and so Yuy was forced to leave the building. And that's why he's here.
Yuy ordered himself Pork Lo Mein and Wonton Soup before he walked over to Wufei's table and sat down. That didn't surprise Wufei at all, as, although they liked to disguise it in public, the Gundam Pilots were extremely close. Yuy would choose to sit with him instead of sitting at a table by himself. Wufei wondered if Barton, who also usually took his lunch at the Café, would choose to go to the Chinese restaurant too (since, obviously, the café wasn't running today). He had forgiven him for the 'nice hair' comment.
"I had a mission," Yuy suddenly broke out, and caused Wufei to look at him. Despite their closeness, they didn't usually discuss Preventer missions unless they were working as partners or somebody was dying. Since both was negative, Wufei wondering why Yuy was discussing this with him. "Given to me by 02 and 04. However, the results came back negative."
It was while he was saying this that Wufei suddenly realized that Yuy wasn't wearing the Preventer's uniform either. Yuy never, ever, took part in casual day. Yet, here he was, wearing a tight t-shirt and skinny jeans. Granted, he did wear spandex on missions, so it wasn't like his transformation was as extreme as his was. Wufei wondered if Maxwell and his telepathic abilities had been used on Yuy as well (it was Maxwell's fault; it was always Maxwell's fault).
However, embarrassingly, Wufei looked at his fellow pilot and one of his best friends sexually for the first time. He never usually thought of such things, but the words of his perverted comrades caused him to think of things he normally wouldn't think of. Yuy was hot, Wufei suddenly realized. He was several inches taller than Wufei (more than a head, Wufei grumbled). His shoulders were wider and he was stronger. His face, while somewhat effeminate, was still masculine, and the mixture between the two was definitely attractive. His messy bed hair, Wufei realized, was actually quite sexy. And his eyes, Prussian blue, yet Asian in shape, were very hot. And his low self-esteem began to seep in again.
However, eventually, Wufei managed to get these thoughts out of his head and managed to focus on what Yuy was actually telling him. There were several inconsistencies in the short fragments he was told. One, 02 and 04 did not assign missions to anyone. Une was the only one with that responsibility. And, besides, Winner wasn't even a Preventer, he was busy with WEI. Second, Yuy would never admit failure; he would just work harder to make sure he was absolutely perfect next time. The perfect soldier always strove for perfection.
"Maxwell and Winner?" he managed to say after he realized the silence between them had been stretched out too far. Yuy had been looking at him weird, with an expression on his face that Wufei could not comprehend. Maybe the fact that his ugly hair was down was what was causing Yuy to stare so uncharacteristically.
"03 was involved as well," Yuy informed him, not answering anything. Wufei wondered, suddenly, if they were conversing about the same thing. But what else could they be talking about? And was everybody involved? Did Sally know? "Po was informed as well," Yuy suddenly gritted out, "But her contribution was low. Her general output towards the mission was less then adequate. All she produced was threats," Yuy had now moved onto his soup. Wufei, suddenly realizing his chopsticks had been gripping the same piece of meat for the last five minutes, rapidly shoved it into his mouth. He abruptly wondered if his lunch break was over, but he no longer cared. Something told him this was important.
"What mission was this?" he suddenly queried, after being informed that, yes, everybody was aware of this mission but him, "You've been at your desk for the last few days doing paperwork. And what was that troublesome, weak woman bothering you about?" Sally loved all the Gundam Pilots, although she seemed to bother him the most. But she had no reason at all to threaten Yuy. The only person Yuy had probably acted less then nice to was Relena, and Sally cared little for the princess, as she barely knew her.
"Po was worried that I would complete the mission without a 100 success rate. And she was correct in her assumption," Yuy, who had always been an efficient eater, was almost done with his soup, and Wufei suddenly became anxious that he would leave without telling him what he wanted to know. Wufei, somehow, instinctively, knew this was important.
"And what mission was this?" Wufei reiterated again, he was becoming angry. Yuy had never walked around the bush before. He was blunt, and one always knew what they had to know in the first few seconds of conversation. They had been going for at least ten minutes now, maybe more, and he still had no idea what they were talking about.
And then, suddenly, Wufei wasn't breathing. Yuy, who had been sitting on the other side of the table, was suddenly beside him. And he was kissing him. His tongue was jammed down his throat, and his hands were up his shirt, and did he just squeeze his ass? But it didn't matter right now, because all the matter was the Yuy could really kiss, and the world was spinning, and what he was doing with his hands felt really, really nice. All that mattered was that he didn't stop.
But, suddenly, right when it had started, it had stopped. And, while Wufei was gulping great breaths of air, he realized that Heero Yuy, the Perfect Solider, had just kissed him, Chang Wufei. Sexy Blue Eyes had kissed Dark Eyed Midget. What the fuck was up with that?
"I failed my mission," Heero commented nonchalantly, as though they hadn't just exchanged saliva less than a minute ago, "Because I backed away when I was supposed to begin my courting of you. You ignoring my comment was not part of the plan. But it is still salvageable. So, Chang, will I be picking you up at 1700 tomorrow?"
"Huh?" Wufei said, intellectually. He hadn't gotten past the part that Yuy's saliva was now in his mouth. Had Yuy kissed him? Or was this entire, demented, fucked up situation dreamed up by his imagination? He didn't remember drinking any alcohol, but that would explain everything perfectly. Realizing that Yuy was talking to him, he nodded along, pretending to listen. He was never going to drink wine again.
"Mission accomplished," Yuy then uttered, looking as pleased with himself as he allowed himself to look in public, "Now I can return your hair ties to you. Although," he suddenly paused to stare at Wufei, "Perhaps I'll keep them." Nodding along, it wasn't until a minute later that Wufei fully understood everything that Yuy had said.
"WHAT! YOU FUCKER! YOU STOLE MY HAIR TIES?"
Maybe Maxwell wasn't to be blamed after all.
As previously mentioned, I would appreciate it if you left a review. It will only take up a minute of your time, and I would really, really appreciate it. Also, as previously mentioned, I would also appreciate it if you took my poll. Thank you.
Oh, for kicks, my spell check wants to change Wufei into wife. That just cracks me up, but maybe that is just my weird sense of humor.