The Shower Chronicles: Part 2
Disclaimer: Only in my dreams do I own any part of Gundam Wing. Until that dream becomes reality, I'm forced to feed you all this disclaimer: Don't own, don't profit, don't sue. No pilots were hurt in the making of this ficlet, but a couple were morbidly embarrassed.
Pairings: 4x3x4, 2x1 / 1x2
Warnings: Shonen ai, fluff, a smidge of OOC?, all kinds of other fun things implied.
Author's Notes:
Nobody requested it (sadface!) but here I am, writing it anyway: The sequel to The Shower Chronicles! This one's a lot less silly, and centered around Heero and Duo. Hope my readers, (all three of you), enjoy it!
"Yuy goes first," Wufei stated.
Duo gave the Chinese pilot an astonished look. "Even though I was up before him?"
"Otherwise, he'll kill you."
"Heero? Nah! He wouldn't do that to me!" The American rebuked.
"Are you willing to bet on that?" Wufei countered.
A silence passed that perfectly illustrated the long-haired boy's response.
Defeated, Duo stomped back over to the two bedmates and decided he'd just have to use them to amuse himself.
"So, how long has this been going on? How long've you two been hiding this from us?"
Trowa's visible eye rolled.
Quatre folded his arms in a rather indignant manner. "I don't have to answer that."
Before Duo could begin to protest, the pair once more retreated under the comforter, this time pulled into place by the blonde.
With a quick yank of the corner of the massive blanket, the American re-exposed them and persisted with his question. "Yes you do! How long?"
Quatre sighed, "Six months, maybe?"
Duo's lips tilted into a grin, "Quat, you aren't the kind of guy that just throws around ballpark figures. Now, I know you know exactly how long it's been, so tell me."
The blonde wrung his lip, embarrassed to admit that, in truth, he did know.
"Twenty-eight weeks, four days," Quatre answered reluctantly. "And…about 16 hours, if you're accounting for time changes."
Trowa blinked at his blonde companion, whose face—which had once returned to its previous porcelain complexion—was reddening once more.
"See, now we're getting somewhere!" Duo clapped his hands once, rubbing his palms together. "So tell me…how far have you gotten?"
Unwilling to hear the response—regardless of what it would be—Wufei abruptly exited.
Quatre's face darkened two shades; Trowa's began to discolor again as well.
"Well, um, you see…" Quatre stalled.
Right on cue, a voice coming from the bathroom door halted the impromptu investigation: "Your turn."
'Thank you, Heero…I owe you one,' the blonde thought, and released a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.
...
At the Japanese boy's request, Duo semi-begrudgingly made his way into the bathroom, heading for the newly-vacated shower. Heero was brushing his teeth before the mirror, his freshly toweled hair messily piled atop his head in a damp version of its traditional style, or lack thereof. The towel he'd used to dry his hair clung to his hips, leaving his upper half completely exposed. Duo did his best to keep his eyes from wandering too much as he removed his sleepwear, dismantled his braid, and climbed into the glass-walled shower, turning the hot water up high, as he liked it.
Knowing his body was completely exposed to Heero for the time being made the American feel awkward for reasons he couldn't explain. He'd always been completely comfortable in the nude; after all, he and Quatre had caught glimpses of one another when tagging out for the shower and the blonde was always the only one embarrassed by such.
But with Heero, it was different. Duo couldn't quite identify exactly why, but figured it could be linked to the fundamental difference in the way he felt about the two of them. As where Quatre was just a friend and nothing more, Heero was…something different. Or at least he'd like it to be different. He'd made subtle attempts to convey such to the Wing pilot, but subtleties were most certainly lost on him, it seemed. So, until he gathered the courage to blatantly confess his feelings, he'd settle for being near to the cobalt-eyed boy, as it was better than nothing at all.
Through the rapidly fogging glass of the shower walls, the long-haired boy could see Heero was still in the bathroom performing his morning grooming rituals, so Duo decided he'd strike up a conversation.
"Did you see those two? I can't believe it!" The American commented passively, dumping a heaping handful of shampoo into his palm and beginning to work it through his yard-long hair.
Heero shrugged. "I already knew."
"What? How could you know? I mean, I've always had my suspicions, but…"
"They're obvious."
Duo snorted, continuing to work shampoo through his mass of unbraided, wet locks. "That's pretty bad, coming from you."
Heero grunted. "Hn?"
"Just sayin'," the showering boy shrugged.
"Saying what?"
"I'm saying that—no offense pal—but when it comes to people, you're about as observant as a cactus," Duo said casually, stepping into the shower's warm spray.
Rather than taking offense, Heero silently agreed. His long-haired companion did have a point, after all: Had he not previously caught the pair in a rather compromising position, Heero imagined he'd still be oblivious to Trowa and Quatre's romantic involvement. Casting off the thought, he completed his grooming routine and turned toward where he'd piled a fresh new set of clothes for the day.
At the same time, Duo turned, his mass of wet hair slinging warm, soapy water along the glass wall of the shower stall that temporarily cleared a section of the steam from it. Out of the corner of one cobalt blue eye, Heero dimly noted that he had a perfect view of Duo's bare body. And what a spectacular sight it was…
The Wing pilot never knew that his companion had such a toned, graceful form: from the soft lines of definition along his chest, abdomen, and hips to the graceful curve of his buttocks, Duo Maxwell was truly striking. Heero couldn't have imagined a more flawless figure.
Water coursed down his body in streams as the American rinsed off remnants of shampoo and soap under the spray of the shower, and only when it cut off did Heero realize he'd been staring. He abruptly tore his gaze away, returning it to the reflection in the foggy mirror as the long-haired pilot curled a fresh towel around his waist and stepped out.
"Heero? You still in here?" Duo queried, genuinely surprised to see his companion still standing before the mirror, "Woulda thought you'd be done by now…"
"You were using up all the water," Heero fibbed.
"Sorry 'bout that," the American answered, offering the fellow pilot a wry grin, "If you need more time, I'll wait. You know how long it takes me to fix this." Duo buried his fingers into the dripping chestnut mass, ruffling waterlogged bangs over his forehead and face.
It was when the pair met gazes that he saw it: the seductive sparkle within Duo's entrancing amethyst eyes. And all at once, Heero Yuy—whose self-confidence had not once faltered in all the years he'd been alive—felt completely unsure of himself.
"No, I'm fine," the Japanese boy dismissed, and abruptly exited with clothes in-hand, disregarding the fact that the towel was still the only article covering his body.
…
Hearing someone exit the bathroom diverted Quatre's attention from his green-eyed boyfriend and prompted him to peek out from under the comforter they had sought shelter under once Duo had left. The blonde's slender eyebrow perked at the sight of a scantily clad Heero making a beeline for the bedroom door. Duo's eyes followed closely behind.
Quicker than the long-haired boy imagined the blonde was capable of, Quatre was up out of bed and in his face, pushing back against the door Duo tried to close on him all too late.
"You plugged me for information, now it's your turn!" The Arabian remarked triumphantly, leaning a shoulder into the bathroom door to keep it open. Trowa fought the grin that tugged at his lips upon seeing the peculiar display. The pair certainly did have their fair share of antics…
"Not likely!" The American retorted, and matched the blonde's force against the door, tipping the scales in his favor just a bit as he did so. Despite the fact that he hated to resort to such cheap tactics, Quatre still had room to get an arm in…
Hooking a limb inside the door, the Sandrock pilot snatched a fistful of damp chestnut hair, pulling it tightly to him.
"Tell me everything!" Quatre insisted, though he wasn't nearly as interested as his nosy interrogator had been.
Duo hissed and surrendered to the tug, and the request. "Nothing happened!"
The blonde's grip loosened a little. "Then…why are you hiding behind the door?"
"Because I'm not dressed!"
With a small noise of surprise, the Arabian released his hold and withdrew, allowing the long-haired boy to finally slam the door in his face.
Quatre turned to his lover, wringing his lip bashfully. "…Forgot about that part."
~OWARI~
ANs: So, there's probably a final fic on the way to complete this trilogy, just because I've enjoyed writing this WAY too much to leave it alone. For those of you who read this, thank you! I really hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! ^^
