Being Married
They fought like an old married couple. It was perhaps not best of pairings, Dorothy and Wufei, but it certainly was entertaining for those around them. At least when the two firey lovebirds weren't too loud.
"They have been at it for hours," Quatre murmurs, laying in the bed next to Heero.
"... three hours and forty seven minutes actually."
Quatre ignores him. "They should shut up. I don't know what's worse, them fighting for hours or them having sex and the bed slamming into the walls."
"They're expensive habits. We have to constantly replace the beds."
"Why oh why, did I invite them to stay for three months."
"Dorothy made you drunk." Heero said. "It was amusing. I have never seen you sing like that before." Heero turns and stares at curiously, "The sailor song, did he really...?"
"Yes, with the barnacles too."
"Huh," Heero grunted, leaning back on his medium sized pillows, exactly thirty two centimetres high. "I didn't know it's humanly possible."
"It's not," Quatre says, wincing when he hears a vase break. Thankfully he's replaced them with cheap copies... after the Picasso incident... He shudders.
"How do you know that?"
Quatre shifts. "A - A friend told me. He worked the seas."
"Oh..." Heero utters, then leaves the whole subject.
"They're finally quiet."
There's a pure blessed silence.
The bed thumps.
"Ah... sex. It starts."
"Is it really necessary for them to fight every time before they have sex?"
"They're trying for children." Heero says, and then he and Quatre try to imagine Dorothy and Wufei as parents. It doesn't come well, perhaps thankfully."
"And how does that matter?"
"I'm not quite sure. Wufei explained it me... but," Heero shakes his head. "It was a very interesting discussion."
"Yes, I can see how it would be."
The bed falls silent.
"Geez, Wufei sure is a two minute man."
"One minute, fifty seven seconds actually."
Quatre rolls his eyes. "Thanks for that Heero, I really needed to know that."
"I will never understand you Quatre."
"At least we can get some sleep now," Quatre says, wishing his lover could get some sarcasm. He leans in and gives Heero a peck on his nose.
"That wasn't a real kiss."
He sighs, reaches over to Heero again and slides his tongue across Heero's lowers lip. He presses in, his lips gently touching Heero's own. His tongue goes in between Heero's parted lips, and the kiss becomes deeper as their tongues wage war.
"Night night Heero."
"That wasn't a real kiss either."
Quatre grins.
"Let's disturb their sleep, now shall we?"
"It's the least we can do."
No one got that much sleep that night. No one was particularly unhappy about however.
Until Quatre found the broken Ming vase that is.
