Heero is sprawled on the sofa, half-listening to the ESUN President's latest speech when Trowa finally emerges from the shower. He has the laptop open in front of him still and is back to reading the Preventers reports he'd downloaded earlier. He listens as Trowa moves about the trailer, putting things away and making noise in the kitchen.
"You're quiet," Trowa murmurs. He's holding two steaming mugs in his hands and Heero shifts upright to give him room on the sofa. He settles next to Heero on the sofa, quietly handing a mug of tea to Heero. Heero sips it absently, the taste of chamomile sweet on his tongue. "Chamomile."
"Hm." He glances at Trowa and sees that he looks more relaxed, less exasperated. He ignores Trowa's eyeroll as he sets the mug down on the coffee table, untouched. "I'm not the one who stormed in here."
Trowa shrugs, looking uncomfortable and focuses on the television screen. Lady Une and Relena Darlian are standing behind President Veertig. He takes a sip from his mug and studies the two women. Both women have dark, sleepless circles under their eyes and Une has the same stony expression he remembers from OZ. "Any idea if Une figured out what you did yet?"
"No," Heero replies. "I think Noin suspects." Trowa glances at him curiously and Heero stretches before returning his attention to the laptop. "I contacted Quatre to say I didn't die."
"That's considerate of you."
"He invited me to the detonation." He shakes his head. "He makes it sound like a celebration."
Trowa shrugs. "Will you go?"
Heero remains silent, frowning at the screen in front of him.
"Ah." They fall silent, listening as the President discusses the unfortunate rebel attempt, encourages everyone to embrace the same compassion the Vice Foreign Minister has displayed toward the rebels' former child leader. It rings hollow compared to Relena's previous entreaties in her own speeches. "The man's an idiot."
Heero smirks. "I almost wish he'd been in the bunker when Zero crashed."
"Heero." His admonishment falls flat though since he's smiling. "Bet he'll turn questions over to Une." The reporters get their chance to ask questions and just as Trowa had predicted, President Veertig, looking clearly out of his depth, turns all questions of the explosion over to Une to answer. Trowa shakes his head. "Cathy knows."
"That I blew up the bunker?" Heero questions. He glances up to see Trowa staring at him pointedly. He gives a curt nod, setting the laptop on the coffee table next to the tea. "Is that why you came in…?"
Trowa shrugs. "She's going to be insufferable."
"Is she blaming me for corrupting you again?"
"Is that what happened?" Trowa asks.
"No," Heero replies. "I just don't want to be on the wrong side of her knives."
Trowa laughs, and nudges Heero's uninjured arm. "She'd love to hear she frightens you."
"She doesn't." He narrows his eyes at Trowa's amused look. "She doesn't." He lets his shoulders relax and leans back against the sofa cushions. "So, what did you tell Cathy?"
Trowa shrugs and takes another long drink from his mug. "Not much," he replies. "She figured it out on her own, with help from you." He tilts his head so the bruise on his neck is more evident and smirks when Heero turns faintly pink. "She wanted to talk about safe sex."
Heero snorts. "Better you than me."
Trowa rolls his eyes, twists to pin Heero to the sofa. Heero goes easily, watches Trowa curiously. "I'm sure she'd be more than happy to discuss it with you too." Heero's eyes narrow and Trowa is still laughing when Heero attempts to shove him on to the floor.
He shifts his grip, pinning Heero's arms and digging his knees into the sides of Heero's thighs. Heero is still frowning, but he isn't trying to dislodge Trowa anymore. Trowa files it away for later consideration. "I was thinking," he says. Heero raises his eyebrows and Trowa releases one arm in order to smooth a finger over Heero's eyebrows. Heero tilts his head back, runs his freed hand idly over Trowa's arm. "If you do decide to come for the detonation, maybe we could see a few places."
Heero is quiet. He raises his hand and runs his fingers slowly through Trowa's bangs. He lets his index finger trail over Trowa's nose, lips, chin. His fingers brush the marks he'd left on Trowa's neck and his lips twitch in a small smile. He leans up, kisses Trowa hard, all teeth and tongue, and Trowa presses back, one hand tangled in Heero's hair, keeping his head arched back, and the other bracing himself above the other boy.
Heero pulls back, stares up at Trowa, eyes dark and calculating. Trowa watches him, eyes intent, and Heero smiles. "Yeah," he replies. His hands slip under Trowa's sweater, trail over his spine. He can't suppress the shiver and Heero grins, slow and pleased. "Yeah, that sounds good."
Trowa relaxes against him, sighs as Heero presses another hungry kiss to his mouth, hands fisting in his sweater. He pulls back, ignoring Heero's frustrated look and sits up. Heero's hands frame his hips and Trowa leans over, snags the remote to turn the television off. Heero steals another kiss, follows him up so that they're both sitting.
"Bed," he rasps against Heero's jaw. Heero's fingers tighten on his hips and then suddenly he's airborne, Heero's hands sliding down to grip underneath his thighs. He wraps his legs around Heero's waist automatically, tugs his hair to get his attention. "If you drop me…"
Heero rolls his eyes as he heads for the bedroom and Trowa distracts himself by undoing the buttons on Heero's shirt. "You aren't that heavy," he replies. "Just awkwardly tall." He laughs as Trowa tugs on his hair again before dropping him gracelessly onto the bed. Trowa tightens his legs, drags Heero down with him, and smirks at Heero's scowl.
"It has its advantages," he states, leaning up to kiss Heero again. Heero responds, mouth hungry against his and Trowa lets himself relax into the feel of the kiss, the press of Heero's hands on his hips. One of Heero's hands break its hold, slides up under his sweater, fingertips skating lightly over his stomach. He pulls away with a gasp, head falling back against the mattress. "Tickles," he says.
Heero smirks, lets his fingers move lightly along Trowa's side briefly before he sits back as much as Trowa allows. He tugs at the hem of Trowa's shirt. "Off," he instructs.
"Bossy," Trowa replies. He maneuvers so that he's in a half-crunch, back lifted off the bed enough to pull the sweater off. Heero moves to bite at his collarbone and Trowa stops him with a hand to his sternum. "You too." He tugs at the hem of the shirt and Heero scowls before moving back to finish unbuttoning the shirt and shrug it off, struggling with the injury on his left arm. Trowa reaches out, helping to guide it over the bandage.
Trowa sighs, head falling back as Heero's mouth moves over his neck, collarbone, trails over the yellowed bruises covering his chest. He shifts, maneuvering them so that they're more firmly on the bed, slides one leg down to press against Heero's uninjured calf. They move together effortlessly, just as they did during the war. Heero is as focused now as he is during any other mission, taking his time to learn each new sound he can draw from Trowa.
Trowa uses Heero's distraction to flip them, pinning Heero beneath him. Heero raises his eyebrows, runs his fingers over Trowa's cheek, across his lips. Trowa opens his mouth, sucks one of the fingers between his lips, and watches Heero's eyes darken further.
"Trowa," he groans. Trowa smiles around the captured finger, bites lightly at the callused fingertip. Heero shivers and Trowa files that away for later consideration as well. "Unless you're waiting for Catherine's speech-"
Trowa releases his finger, bites his way down Heero's jaw and neck. "Don't mention my sister's name when we're making out."
"Then stop teasing."
"You really are bossy," he murmurs, breath warm against Heero's skin. He sucks a mark onto Heero's collarbone, enjoying the way Heero's pulse races beneath his mouth. He pulls back, admiring the dark bruise and Heero's flushed face. "It's not teasing if I follow through," he adds. "Teasing would be leaving you like this."
"I will shoot you," Heero warns.
Trowa laughs, one of his full-body ones and Heero smiles at him, pushes his bangs aside so he can see Trowa's face clearly. "Your pillow-talk could use some improvement." He feels Heero's hands find the button on his jeans and he stills, laughter dying away. His grip tightens on Heero's hip. Heero smirks, pulls him down for a hungry kiss as he pops the button one-handed. "Okay," he agrees, "no more teasing."
. . ... . .
Heero rouses before dawn to the sight of Trowa contorted into some type of complicated-looking yoga pose. He frowns, brushing the hair out of his face and turning to watch Trowa more clearly in the dim light. Trowa moves effortlessly from the current pose into one where he's balanced on his forearms, and Heero takes a moment to appreciate the strength needed for the pose. It's still too early for yoga though.
"Trowa?" he asks.
Trowa doesn't startle, exactly, but he does drop out of the pose quicker than he would normally. Heero props himself up on one arm, watching as Trowa gets up from the floor. The dim light makes it hard to see, but Heero's fairly certain there are dark half-circles beneath Trowa's eyes.
He remains watchful as Trowa shakes out his shoulders and then reaches for a sweater. "Go back to sleep," he says softly. "I have to feed the lions. I'll see you later."
Heero is still frowning, but he remains silent as Trowa finishes dressing and heads out. He doesn't point out that Trowa had seemed content to practice yoga at ungodly hours of the morning. He can feel the itch under his skin demanding movement and he ignores it. Instead, he lays on his back, watching the artificial sun slowly slide through the partially closed blinds and illuminate the ceiling, listens to the circus begin to come alive outside.
. . ... . .
Trowa spends the morning feeding, exercising, and grooming the animals in the menagerie alongside Sacha, Nadia, Auguste, and a few other workers. The circus will officially open at midday, with the matinee show at two, followed by the evening performance at seven. He's on his way back to the trailer mid-morning when Catherine appears, hair in oversized rollers. She links their arms and falls in step with him.
"Your trailer is that way," he notes, inclining his head.
"Yours is closer," she replies easily. "I want to discuss the specifics for the shows today. And anyway, as your self-appointed older and wiser sister, I want to chat with your friend."
"You spoke to him yesterday," Trowa states. He disengages from her hold on him to open the door. The trailer is silent, the laptop still sitting on the coffee table from the previous night and Heero's ridiculous shoes missing from their spot by the door.
Cathy follows him in, chattering about the show and how Lira is kicking up a fuss over something again. She takes a seat at the table while Trowa makes breakfast and only pauses in her story of Mint punching a midway worker the previous night when he sets the plates on the table. She studies him as they eat and he stares blandly back at her.
"Something's wrong," she states finally. She waves her fork as she speaks. Her eyes narrow suspiciously. "Did you have a fight with lover boy? Is that why Heero isn't here?"
Trowa snorts and turns back to mopping up egg yolk with toast. "We didn't fight."
Catherine's eyes are still narrowed. "Is he pressuring you?"
"Catherine. I do not need to have a safe sex talk with you," he states firmly. He gives her his best scowl and she returns it.
"Well, how am I supposed to know what they taught you? Did Gundam pilot training come with Sex Ed?"
Trowa snorts and tries not to think of Doktor S and sex in the same sentence. "No. I grew up with mercenaries."
"I'm sure that was safe," she mutters. She crosses her arms and leans back in her chair. "Alright, so if it isn't sex-related or Heero-related, then what is it?" He remains focused on cleaning his plate. "How long is Heero staying this time?"
"We haven't discussed it."
He catches her exasperated eye roll. "Boys," she mutters darkly. She sips her orange juice and drums her sparkly nails on his table top.
"Cathy, it's not," he pauses, tries to find the words. "We aren't…"
Her expression softens. "Yeah," she says. "You are." Trowa falls silent and Cathy sighs softly. "If it really isn't that, then what is it?"
"I just didn't sleep much," Trowa replies.
"Are you having nightmares again? I thought you said they'd stopped?"
"I'm fine, Cathy," he says. He glances up at her and she looks suspicious at his guileless expression. "Heero and I went to bed early, just took a while to get to sleep."
Cathy's face flushes, laughing brightly as she throws her wadded up napkin at his face. "You know," she says later, when they've finished cleaning up and are getting ready to head to the big top to prepare for the matinee showing. He glances at her curiously and she leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. "You should talk to him."
"We do talk." Her left eyebrow raises incredulously and Trowa ignores her, tying his shoes.
"Of course you do," she says finally. "Come on, time to earn your keep," she announces, pulling the door open and ushering him out.