_~* LOVE HURTS*~_
[insert disclaimer here]
AN: Yay, I ish in a happy mood- I got into the University course I put down for! I'm gonna be doing animation- perfect for someone like myself who is obsessed with drawing (among things). Maybe one day I'll be able make a new 'Gundam Wing' series ^_^
Duo: Dear God, no!
Friezaess: *grumbles*
Enough ranting. ON WITH THE FIC!
_~*~_
Trowa and Heero sat in the hospital's waiting room, watching the seconds tick by on the clock. Quatre had been in surgery for two hours now, and aformentioned conversationalists (e_e) were anxious to hear the results. Their patience was eventually rewarded when a nurse came to see them.
"He'll be just fine," she announced. Trowa breathed a sigh of relief. "It was really only minor surgery, but those were some pretty nasty wounds. What we're wondering is how the poor boy managed to get five stab wounds in his stomach. Was there a domestic dispute?"
"Yes Trowa," Heero questioned, "how DID Quatre acquire those stab wounds?"
The unibanged boy fiddled with the sleeve of his turtleneck and blushed slightly.
"I... was practicing my knife-throwing for the circus with him. I, er, missed..."
_~*~_
The two pilots returned to the safehouse several hours later, their wounded comrade in tow. The doctors had wanted to keep Quatre in overnight for observation, but Heero had convinced them to let him come home. A public place like a hospital was far too conspicuous for a Gundam pilot. Trowa helped his koi into the house and sat him down on the sofa. Duo and Wufei were on hand should the Arabian boy need any assistance.
After making sure he was alright, Duo piped up.
"So, Q-man, how'd you managed to get yourself stabbed while we were on the mission?"
"Was it OZ? Did they come here?" Wufei asked, looking around franticaly for any intruding OZies.
"No, it was nothing like that," Quatre assured them. "It was just... an accident."
"What kind of accident leaves you looking like a pin cushion?!" Duo retorted.
"He's right," Heero agreed, "this was no mere accident. And Trowa, those are the strangest looking 'knife wounds' I've ever seen. You're lucky the nurse you told that to was such a ditz."
Trowa bit his lip.
"Yes... well..."
"I need to know what really happened so I can send a report to Doctor J regarding 04's injuries- you know it's compulsory."
Though truth be told, Heero was just as curious as the rest of them. Neither Trowa nor Quatre dared breathe a word, and both wore matching blushes.
"Well?" The perfect soldier demanded.
"Uh... you see..." Quatre twiddled his thumbs. "While you guys were away, Trowa and I decided to... uh... physically express our love."
Tissues were passed to Wufei.
"Thanks, Duo."
"Anyway... he usually just uses his hands to... arouse me..."
Kleenex were put to good use.
"But this time he did things... orally."
Very good use.
"And... and..."
"And?" Heero and Duo coaxed. Quatre's blush deepend, and Trowa and suddenly found the floor to be very interesting.
"And... his-bangs-stabbed-me-in-the-stomach-when-he-was-giving-me-head." He gushed out.
Silence.
And then... laughter. From Duo's direction, of course. Wufei finished off the last of the Kleenex- looks like he'd have to progress to toilet paper.
"Is that so?" Heero asked, bemused. Quatre nodded shyly.
"It's not funny!" He squealed at the chuckling American pilot.
"Yes it bloody well is!" Came the reply.
"Oh sure, you don't have that kind of problem with YOUR boyfriend- he hasn't seen a hair stylist since he was a fetus!"
Duo stopped laughing.
"Are you dissing my koi, Blondie?"
"Maybe I am, you Mortica wannabe!" Now let's say it together, kids- 'ZERO-fied Quatre'!
Heero wrinkled his nose. It just so happened he liked his hair that way because he could keep his pet teranchula Stuffy in it. Nobody understood him. He sniffled.
In all the chaos and confusion, nobody had noticed that Trowa and Wufei were missing...
_~*~_
"What are you talking about?" The Heavyarms pilot asked as he was handed a jar of goop. He and Wufei were in the bathroom, and Wufei had used up a roll of toilet paper in order to stop his hemmoraging.
"Read the label. I used to have the same problem as you, Trowa," he stated. "For you see, I too have suffered from what I like to call... 'The Bangs of Injustice'."
Trowa raised an eyebrow.
"'The Bangs of Injustice?'"
"Yes. My hair was once styled into a jagged, unruly unibang much like yourself."
03 gasped.
"Nani?! Not YOU, with yout tighter-than-Quatre's-ass ponytail!"
"Don't make me use up more toilet paper than I already have, Barton."
"Sorry."
"As I was saying, my bangs were so long and sharp, no-one could come within three feet of me. And getting it on with Meiran? You can forget about it! Then I discovered 'Zechs Brand Hair Gel'."
"Did you say 'Zechs Brand'?"
"Something to do with a deal with Mc Donald's. Anyway, since I started using that stuff, my hair has never bothered me since!"
"Really? Wow!" Trowa looked at the jar he was holding. "Now I'll be able to kiss Quatre without putting my neck out from craning it! I'll be able to sip soup out of those big bowls! Cathy will stop using me to rake the lawn with!"
A flag with 'Trowa Rules!' fell down behind him, and sparkles floated by as the tall boy struck a pose and gave a 'Victory' sign.
"From this day foward, I shall blow Quatre without mortally wounding him!"
Jets streaked across the sky above him.
"That's nice," Wufei commented, shoving more toilet paper up his nasal cavities, "but this is MY hair gel." He snatched it back. "Get your own, you horny weakling!"
"*sigh*"
_~*~_
Quatre was just lying down to read a book in his and Trowa's bed when...
"AHHHH! Wufei, get out of my bed!" He picked up a pillow and began thrashing the ponytailed boy with it.
"OW! Quatre I'm OW! not OW! Wufei! Would you cut that out?!" The mysterious boy with the tight ponytail grabbed the pillow away from Quatre and rubbed his forming bruises. Quatre cocked his head to the side, immedeatly recognising the voice. (One, two, three- awwwww!)
"Trowa? What happened to your-"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is foreplay. Get your gear off."
"Oh, Trowa!"
And so, the safehouse was filled with moans of pleasure coming from our four boys. (What, you didn't think there'd be a bit of 1x2 lovin' in the other room after Stuffy the teranchula ran away?) Wufei, who was left alone in this fan-fic like in so many others before it, decided to cut his losses and get with a fangirl. See? Everyone's happy!
_~*~_
In the dark, dank recesses of a McDonald's in the dark, dank recesses of Brisbane, a certain masked bishounen oversaw nerdy, pimply teenagers take the leftover grease from Big Mac's and put it in jars lablled 'Zechs Brand Hair Gel'. Stuffy the teranchula did a little dance on his head.
"Today, Trowa Barton... tomorrow, Noin! I mean, tomorrow the world, the world!" His hand moved unconciously to his poor scarred stomach.
_~*OWARI*~_
Stuffy sez- REVIEW ALREADY!!
[insert disclaimer here]
AN: Yay, I ish in a happy mood- I got into the University course I put down for! I'm gonna be doing animation- perfect for someone like myself who is obsessed with drawing (among things). Maybe one day I'll be able make a new 'Gundam Wing' series ^_^
Duo: Dear God, no!
Friezaess: *grumbles*
Enough ranting. ON WITH THE FIC!
_~*~_
Trowa and Heero sat in the hospital's waiting room, watching the seconds tick by on the clock. Quatre had been in surgery for two hours now, and aformentioned conversationalists (e_e) were anxious to hear the results. Their patience was eventually rewarded when a nurse came to see them.
"He'll be just fine," she announced. Trowa breathed a sigh of relief. "It was really only minor surgery, but those were some pretty nasty wounds. What we're wondering is how the poor boy managed to get five stab wounds in his stomach. Was there a domestic dispute?"
"Yes Trowa," Heero questioned, "how DID Quatre acquire those stab wounds?"
The unibanged boy fiddled with the sleeve of his turtleneck and blushed slightly.
"I... was practicing my knife-throwing for the circus with him. I, er, missed..."
_~*~_
The two pilots returned to the safehouse several hours later, their wounded comrade in tow. The doctors had wanted to keep Quatre in overnight for observation, but Heero had convinced them to let him come home. A public place like a hospital was far too conspicuous for a Gundam pilot. Trowa helped his koi into the house and sat him down on the sofa. Duo and Wufei were on hand should the Arabian boy need any assistance.
After making sure he was alright, Duo piped up.
"So, Q-man, how'd you managed to get yourself stabbed while we were on the mission?"
"Was it OZ? Did they come here?" Wufei asked, looking around franticaly for any intruding OZies.
"No, it was nothing like that," Quatre assured them. "It was just... an accident."
"What kind of accident leaves you looking like a pin cushion?!" Duo retorted.
"He's right," Heero agreed, "this was no mere accident. And Trowa, those are the strangest looking 'knife wounds' I've ever seen. You're lucky the nurse you told that to was such a ditz."
Trowa bit his lip.
"Yes... well..."
"I need to know what really happened so I can send a report to Doctor J regarding 04's injuries- you know it's compulsory."
Though truth be told, Heero was just as curious as the rest of them. Neither Trowa nor Quatre dared breathe a word, and both wore matching blushes.
"Well?" The perfect soldier demanded.
"Uh... you see..." Quatre twiddled his thumbs. "While you guys were away, Trowa and I decided to... uh... physically express our love."
Tissues were passed to Wufei.
"Thanks, Duo."
"Anyway... he usually just uses his hands to... arouse me..."
Kleenex were put to good use.
"But this time he did things... orally."
Very good use.
"And... and..."
"And?" Heero and Duo coaxed. Quatre's blush deepend, and Trowa and suddenly found the floor to be very interesting.
"And... his-bangs-stabbed-me-in-the-stomach-when-he-was-giving-me-head." He gushed out.
Silence.
And then... laughter. From Duo's direction, of course. Wufei finished off the last of the Kleenex- looks like he'd have to progress to toilet paper.
"Is that so?" Heero asked, bemused. Quatre nodded shyly.
"It's not funny!" He squealed at the chuckling American pilot.
"Yes it bloody well is!" Came the reply.
"Oh sure, you don't have that kind of problem with YOUR boyfriend- he hasn't seen a hair stylist since he was a fetus!"
Duo stopped laughing.
"Are you dissing my koi, Blondie?"
"Maybe I am, you Mortica wannabe!" Now let's say it together, kids- 'ZERO-fied Quatre'!
Heero wrinkled his nose. It just so happened he liked his hair that way because he could keep his pet teranchula Stuffy in it. Nobody understood him. He sniffled.
In all the chaos and confusion, nobody had noticed that Trowa and Wufei were missing...
_~*~_
"What are you talking about?" The Heavyarms pilot asked as he was handed a jar of goop. He and Wufei were in the bathroom, and Wufei had used up a roll of toilet paper in order to stop his hemmoraging.
"Read the label. I used to have the same problem as you, Trowa," he stated. "For you see, I too have suffered from what I like to call... 'The Bangs of Injustice'."
Trowa raised an eyebrow.
"'The Bangs of Injustice?'"
"Yes. My hair was once styled into a jagged, unruly unibang much like yourself."
03 gasped.
"Nani?! Not YOU, with yout tighter-than-Quatre's-ass ponytail!"
"Don't make me use up more toilet paper than I already have, Barton."
"Sorry."
"As I was saying, my bangs were so long and sharp, no-one could come within three feet of me. And getting it on with Meiran? You can forget about it! Then I discovered 'Zechs Brand Hair Gel'."
"Did you say 'Zechs Brand'?"
"Something to do with a deal with Mc Donald's. Anyway, since I started using that stuff, my hair has never bothered me since!"
"Really? Wow!" Trowa looked at the jar he was holding. "Now I'll be able to kiss Quatre without putting my neck out from craning it! I'll be able to sip soup out of those big bowls! Cathy will stop using me to rake the lawn with!"
A flag with 'Trowa Rules!' fell down behind him, and sparkles floated by as the tall boy struck a pose and gave a 'Victory' sign.
"From this day foward, I shall blow Quatre without mortally wounding him!"
Jets streaked across the sky above him.
"That's nice," Wufei commented, shoving more toilet paper up his nasal cavities, "but this is MY hair gel." He snatched it back. "Get your own, you horny weakling!"
"*sigh*"
_~*~_
Quatre was just lying down to read a book in his and Trowa's bed when...
"AHHHH! Wufei, get out of my bed!" He picked up a pillow and began thrashing the ponytailed boy with it.
"OW! Quatre I'm OW! not OW! Wufei! Would you cut that out?!" The mysterious boy with the tight ponytail grabbed the pillow away from Quatre and rubbed his forming bruises. Quatre cocked his head to the side, immedeatly recognising the voice. (One, two, three- awwwww!)
"Trowa? What happened to your-"
"It doesn't matter. What matters is foreplay. Get your gear off."
"Oh, Trowa!"
And so, the safehouse was filled with moans of pleasure coming from our four boys. (What, you didn't think there'd be a bit of 1x2 lovin' in the other room after Stuffy the teranchula ran away?) Wufei, who was left alone in this fan-fic like in so many others before it, decided to cut his losses and get with a fangirl. See? Everyone's happy!
_~*~_
In the dark, dank recesses of a McDonald's in the dark, dank recesses of Brisbane, a certain masked bishounen oversaw nerdy, pimply teenagers take the leftover grease from Big Mac's and put it in jars lablled 'Zechs Brand Hair Gel'. Stuffy the teranchula did a little dance on his head.
"Today, Trowa Barton... tomorrow, Noin! I mean, tomorrow the world, the world!" His hand moved unconciously to his poor scarred stomach.
_~*OWARI*~_
Stuffy sez- REVIEW ALREADY!!