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Just Kidding
by Mina
Standard disclaimers for Gundam Wing apply. Yada yada ::yawn, snore:: …
Um, gomen nasai.
Sleep deprivation will do that to a Demonchild. Anyway…K'lendel, what was I doing?
K'lendel: You were
posting disclaimers, Mina-sama.
::blink, blink:: I
was? Why was I doing that?
K'lendel:
::sigh:: Go to bed,
Mina-sama. I finish things here.
::Mina beams blearily over at her fox boy muse.:: Sankyuu!
::collapse::
K'lendel:: Here
goes. This fic contains general
insanity caused by Mina-sama having twenty-four hours of sleep in the last
eight days and living on nothing but ichigo Pocky and caffeine-free Pepsi. Incidentally, since this is a fic by
Mina-sama after all, there's some shounen ai—5x4 as well as 3x4, and before you
sit there and go, "What the hell?!" read on and find out. Did I do a good job, Mina-sama?
::Mina twitches, patting the foxboy.:: Good less-than-sane foxboy-musuko. ::keels over again::
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Quatre was tired.
Not just any old tired, mind you.
He was suffering from the
'been-up-for-seventy-two-hours-straight-working-my-ass-off-without-any-help-other-than-caffeine-and-cold-water'
kind of tired. He rubbed at his burning
eyes as he stumbled down the hallway towards his room, mumbling incoherently
about what all he still needed to get done.
Duo poked his head around the corner, a scowl on his
heart-shaped face as he took in Quatre's stooped form leaning against the
wall. Quatre had stopped to try and
piece his thoughts together before continuing and showed no signs of moving any
time soon. "Keep going, Winner," Duo
said, stalking towards Quatre threateningly.
Blonde head wobbling up weakly, Quatre blinked warily at the
braided boy with wide, bloodshot aqua eyes.
"Duo, why am I standing in the hallway?" he asked, nearly tripping and
falling flat on his face as he tried to turn for a better look at Duo.
Smacking himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand,
Duo muttered darkly under his breath about dumb, rich blonde boys that thought
they could play Superman, Batman, Sailor Senshi, Reikai—er, Nigenkai—Tantei,
and basically fill the roll of a none-to-minor deity all at the same time.
Quatre scratched his head in confusion, wondering why Duo
was glaring at him, why he felt like he was going to fall over any second, why
his eyelids felt like they needed toothpicks to prop them open, and why he was
standing in the hallway in the first place.
Hadn't he been going over mission specifics with Heero? After all, they had that assignment to hit a
Romefeller-owned electronics company tomorrow, and it was a highly risky
mission because of the tight security and the fact that there would be a
company party in full swing when they hit it in the evening.
Duo sighed in exasperation and shook his hand, laying a
gentle but firm hand to the befuddled blonde's shoulder. "Come on, Quatre. You need to go to bed."
"But, what about the mission—"
Duo effectively cut of Quatre's protest with a violet glare,
continuing to lead the Arabian down the hall towards his room. "Look, Quatre, you've been working on that
goddamn mission for over three days now; two and a half of which, I might add,
you were all on your own. Heero and I
just got back in this afternoon, Wufei should be in this evening, and
Trowa… Saa, last I heard, Trowa should
be in anytime now. That's four other
people to spend the rest of today and tomorrow worrying about the Kumoraichi-SkyCom
hit."
"Hai…demo…" Quatre
swayed on his feet, clutching at Duo's shoulder as his vision began to fog; the
last thing he wanted was to become intimate with the hard linoleum floor of
their current safe house.
Duo pulled Quatre's arm over his shoulder with a snort,
continuing the last few meters to Quatre's bedroom door. He'd put enough codeine in Quartre's tea to
knock the Sandrock pilot out for at least twelve hours. "Don't try arguing," he said softly as he
helped Quatre onto his bed, stooping to pull the blonde's loafers off. "Just guest some rest. You won't do us any good if you're a walking
zombie tomorrow."
Quatre stifled a loud, jaw-cracking yawn behind his
hand. "Aw wright," he mumbled,
untucking his t-shirt and slipping his jeans off before sliding under the
blankets. He was feeling awfully
tired, and a short nap wouldn't hurt, right?
And maybe Trowa would be back when he woke up.
Chuckling again as he made his way to the door and flipped
the light off, Duo quipped, "Nighty night, sleep tight! Don't let the bedbugs bite! And, sweet dreams, kiddo."
Quatre smiled softly, snuggling deeper under his quilt. Sweet dreams sounded really nice. Dreams of Trowa, whip cream, jelly beans,
and fuzzy black handcuffs…
*****
Quatre was abruptly woken by a frantic Heero. The blonde gaped in open astonishment at the
Wing pilot, wondering what the hell had gone on while he'd taken his nap. Heero's face was covered in soot and blood,
and he was fair certain that those were tears streaking down the prussian-eyed
boy's face.
"Hayaku, Quatre!" Heero said harshly, his voice gone
slightly shrill. "It's…it's…it's…"
Quatre finally grabbed Heero's shoulder, giving the boy a
shake. "It's what?!" he asked
sharply.
Heero's mouth worked like a fish on land for a moment. "It's…
Hell, just hurry! Duo might be
dead." And with that he jumped up from
the bed and raced from the room.
Heart pounding frantically in fear, Quatre nearly fell on
his face when he got tangled up in his sheets in his hurry to follow
Heero. His bare feet made a loud
slapping noise as he ran down the hall, and he cut the corner into the kitchen
a little too close and ended up clipping his right little toe.
Doing the little one-legged dance of intense little toe
pain, Quatre tripped over something on the floor and landed in a very
ungraceful sprawl on his belly. "This
is so not my day," he muttered, looking up after scraping his bangs from
his eyes to see what he'd tripped over.
Duo lay spread eagle on his back, face pale and covered in
soot and blood just like Heero's had been.
He was unmoving, and Quatre reached a trembling hand for his wrist to
feel for a pulse. His hands were cold…too
cold.
Heero was by Duo's head, cradling the boy's head in his lap
as he worried the auburn braid through his hands. "I don't know what happened," he said hoarsely, not looking up at
Quatre. "We were in here, making dinner
and… Well, we pulled the turkey from
the oven because we thought it might be burning and…"
"And what?!" Quatre asked shrilly when Heero paused,
scrambling forward to check Duo's carotid artery for a pulse after finding none
in his wrist. He was finding it hard to
remain calm given the current situation—especially when calm, cool,
collected Heero Yuy was panicking like a fricken' schoolgirl!
Suddenly, Duo's eyes popped open and the Deathscythe Hell
pilot winced as he tried to sit up.
"And then the turkey exploded because Heero stuffed it with a ketchup
bottle," he grumbled, glaring up at his lover.
"You just told me to stuff it; you didn't say with what,"
Heero stated in his defense.
Quatre dropped Duo's wrist in shock, staring at Heero with
an accusing expression on his face. "I
thought you said that Duo was dead!" he wailed, falling heavily over onto his
backside in his dismay.
Duo blinked, then looked up at Heero quizzically. "I'm dead?" he asked curiously, looking at
his lover with a slightly amused expression.
Quatre stared in dumbfounded shock as Heero Yuy suddenly
grinned and began to chuckle. The Wing
ZERO pilot looked up at him and tossed him a wink. "Just kidding, Quatre."
As Quatre began to scream in absolute frustration, coloured
with just a hint of fear at a grinning Heero, his vision began to fade into
blessed black.
*****
Quatre sat up abruptly in bed, panting for breath. He put a hand to his forehead, blinking
sleep from his aqua eyes. "What an awful
dream!" he groaned. He threw the
blankets off, stumbling to his feet and towards the door. If Heero ever smiled or laughed any time in
the next week, Quatre was sure that he'd either: A. Run screaming into the night as if Dorothy Catalonia were at
his heels, or B. Start laughing maniacally and go on a shooting rampage of
every turkey farm in the county.
Upon entering the kitchen, Quatre was greeted by the sight
of Wufei's backside, seated at the small table in the corner. "Yaa, Wufei," he said softly, making his way
towards the fridge. Maybe some chocolate
milk would help him to have less traumatizing dreams.
"Oh, goody! I've
been waiting to talk to you, Quatre-honey!"
Quatre nearly dropped the carton of chocolate milk he was
holding his hands, eyes widening in shock.
Had Wufei just said what he thought Wufei had just said? He shook his head and laughed softly,
putting the milk carton on the counter and closing the door. No, it must have just been his
imagination. Wufei would never
say anything like that—even under threat of a neon pink and electric green
striped Altron.
He stilled suddenly when an arm snaked sinuously around his
waist, pulling him back against a hard body.
"Have I told you lately what a sexy boy you are?" Wufei purred into his
ear, nuzzling the sensitive skin behind his ear.
Quatre just shook his head, stuttering, "I-i-iie."
"Well, then," Wufei murmured against his neck, breath
leaving a heated trail against his flesh even as Wufei's fingers were slowly
sliding up his bare thigh and under the hem of his t-shirt. "I guess it's time for me to tell you."
"Demo, Wufei, boku—Mmph!"
Wufei effectively silenced whatever it was Quatre would have said in
protest with wet, demanding lips.
Quatre's aqua eyes widened in shock yet again as Wufei's tongue traced
the seam of his closed lips, thumb tugging his mouth open so that the Chinese
boy's tongue could enter.
OhmygodohmygodohmygodWufei'skissingme! Quatre thought
incoherently, wondering what the hell had gotten into the Altron pilot and just
what the hell he could do about it.
When Wufei broke the kiss, Quatre concentrated on trying to
get his breath back and collect his thoughts.
"I know that you and Trowa are pretty close, Quatre-honey, but have you
ever considered a ménage trois?
Quatre? Oi, Quatre, you don't
have to look like that. I was just
kidding."
As Quatre began to scream in a combination of shock and
horror, his vision once again faded into thrice-blessed blackness.
*****
"—okite yo!"
With a gasp, Quatre awoke yet again, one hand clutching the
collar of his shirt while the other was clutching the shirt of the boy shaking
him awake. "God, this had better not be
another nightmare," he muttered.
"Quatre, daijoubu ka?" Trowa asked worriedly, smoothing back
sweaty, blonde bangs from the Arabian boy's forehead.
Quatre looked up sharply, gaze fixing hungrily on the
shadowed planes of Trowa's concerned face.
"Are you real?" he asked bluntly, fingertips wandering over Trowa's
face. Trowa felt real, but, then
again, so had Wufei… He shuddered
again, closing his eyes tight.
Trowa laughed softly, gathering the shaking blonde into his
arms. "Of course I'm real, Quatre," he
reassured the boy softly, running a soothing hand down his back.
"Yakusoku?" Quatre mumbled against his chest.
"Aa."
Quatre leaned back after a moment, studying his lover's face
in the pale moonlight that filtered in through the window. "Dai suki," he said quietly. It was as far as he would push Trowa,
telling the Heavyarms pilot 'I'm fond of you.'
When and if the time ever came for more…
Trowa smiled slightly, bending to press a gentle kiss to
Quatre's lips. He pulled back slightly,
and murmured, "Ai shiteru."
Quatre stilled in utter shock, looking up at the French[1]
boy ever so slowly. What if this was
just a dream like everything else had been?
"Just…kidding?" he asked hesitantly.
"Iie," Trowa said with a laugh. "Jodan ja nai n desu."
"Yatta!" Quatre caroled, pouncing on Trowa like a cat—albeit
a cat with decidedly amorous intentions.
"So…nn…what were you…Oh yeah, right there…dreaming about
when…Don't stop! …I came in?"
Quatre looked up the length of Trowa's naked body, a curious
expression on his face. "I'll tell you
later," he told his lover with a wink, pressing a kiss to the boy's
abdomen. "We have much better things to
do right know that discuss Wufei coming on to me like a bitch in heat."
"Wufei did what?
Quatre—Hnn!"
~Owarimashita~
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[1]. Before anyone
reminds me again that Trowa is of Latin origins, not French as I said
above, let me give you a little food for thought. There are no Latin countries in the world today. There are Latino countries, and then
there are the Romance Language countries whose languages are derived most
directly from Latin. The Romance
Languages are French, Italian, and Spanish.
'Three' in Latin is 'tres', or 'tria'.
'Three' in Spanish is 'tres'.
'Three' in Italian is 'tre'.
'Three' in French is 'trois'.
Now it just so happens that the dictionary pronunciation of
'trois' is [trwa]. And while I admit
that I'm not an expert in the field of languages, there are a couple of other
things that support my belief that Trowa is French.
My maman (mother) is French, and my grandmère (grandmother)
is Belgian, and upon talking with both of them about this, I was reminded that
Catherine is a very common French name for girls. And my grandmère knew several boys named Triton (pronounced
'tree-tahn') in her youth.
Thus ends my long and probably useless defense of why I
think Trowa is French.
