Disclaimer: Gundam Wing does not belong to me.
Warnings: OOC, fluff, silly, yaoi. This fic is my response to a 4x5 challenge.
After
Quatre was
pissed. And this was not his normal
zero-system insanity; he was angry.
There was only so much one blond, pink-loving Arabian could take, and
that line had been crossed.
Trowa, who
had decided to return to his circus animals after they spent five years
together, would be one of very few people who would recognize and know to run
in terror from the expression on Quatre's face. Luckily, there was no one in the immediate vicinity to learn
anew.
The blond
man carefully set down the phone. Of
all the… OF ALL THE---
He quickly
suppressed the outburst. Here, alone,
his rage would have little effect against his offender. His eye twitched, and somewhere far, far
away Trowa Barton woke up in a cold sweat.
I had the most terrifying
dream…Quatre was angry again…the laconic clown thought briefly before
settling down again next to his love.
Heero
stirred, "What?" he asked.
"…" Trowa
responded.
"…" Heero
said, before they both fell asleep. Ah,
isn't true love grand? In a few hours
time they would be cheerfully awakened by bright sunlight and dancing sparkles
of happiness. The giant cats,
elephants, bears, trained dogs, and other circus animals frolicked in the
silence, until Heero finally got annoyed and made Trowa quiet them.
"…" Trowa
glared, and the animals settled down.
"DIE,
dammit!!" Wufei shrieked as he brought his katana home yet again, "Why won't you
DIE?!"
Duo lounged
back in his chair, showing off his pristine black boxers-the ones with the
mini-death scythes on them, "I am the God of Death, remember?" his voice was
silkily calm, and his eyes were amused.
The constant barrage by Wufei's razor-sharp weapon was starting to
tickle a bit.
Wufei
ignored him, but dropped his sword in favor of the pistol Duo kept under his
pillow.
"So," Duo
sighed, "I take it this is it?"
"This is
the last time, Duo," Wufei responded, taking aim, "We're over."
A shot rang
out.
Duo yawned,
"All right, all right. If you say so,"
he looked up, suddenly sober, "You do seem pretty serious this time, though…"
"GRAHHHHHH!"
Wufei shouted, dropping the gun. He'd
never liked the things in the first place.
"Bye for
now, Wu-baby."
Wufei
blinked. Was he getting away this
easily? He picked up his katana and
slid it back into its sheath, "Yeah, bye Maxwell," he turned around and left,
giving Duo the perfect view of his nicely formed ass as he went. Wait a second—was Wufei still in his
pajamas? The ones with the feet?
"Eh, he'll
be back," Duo assured himself.
And, in the
end, his prediction turned out to be true.
"@#$!,"
Wufei commented, "I left my car keys in the apartment"
However,
not wanting to once again face the overwhelmingly terrifying wrath known as Duo
Maxwell, God o' Death, and having to break up with him all over again, he
decided that a walk might do him some good.
In response
to this thought, the heretofore bright sky rumbled ominously. Wufei had barely enough time to look,
dumbstruck, at the clouds, before he was completely drenched.
Wufei
realized, suddenly, the one major problem with wearing white cotton pajamas in
the rain…they're see-through when they get wet. A large crowd of pedestrians, all carrying umbrellas,
materialized out of the alleys and looked at him in amusement. This brought back dark and hidden flashbacks
from his most dark and hidden nightmares.
Namely, the dream where he stood in the middle of town completely nude
while everyone laughed at him. The
children were starting to point.
Dammit,
should've worn some underwear, at least. Was that Duo's head peering out the window of their
apartment? Ech, even worse. It was their ninety-year-old neighbor,
cheering him on.
"Why don't
you just take it all off?" she called down.
"Yeah, take
it off!" a mother of seven yelled. Her
husband nodded enthusiastically.
Hmmm…maybe
he should get the hell out of there…
Halfway
across town, Quatre was at the end of his rope. Not the literal kind…though, if he'd had some at the moment, he
would have been at the very, very end of it.
For some reason, all his servants
had fled the second they saw him, and now it was raining. What had he done to deserve this? He picked up a can of soda and it
exploded. Dammit! Even the soda was against him.
For some
reason, this struck a nerve with him.
What had he ever done to soda?
Or to beverages in general? He'd
always recycled! Quatre ripped open the
window, ignoring the fact that the weather suddenly cleared, and shouted, "DAMN
YOU PEPSI!"
Silence. Hmm…that had actually kind of helped. He felt a little better now.
Wufei
finally stopped running and leaned against the side of a building,
panting. Was he safe? The old woman had kept up for the last mile,
but had he finally lost her?
"DAMN YOU
PEPSI!"
Wufei
looked up, shocked. Was that Quatre's
voice? Was there life beyond this
one? Was all truth merely an illusion? He didn't know, but they sounded good. Besides, Quatre would protect him from that
old woman.
Hmmm…at
least his clothes were dr-
Quatre
slammed what was left of the window shut, and noticed angrily that it was
raining again. Everything was
against him.
Someone banged on
the door, increasing Quatre's (irateness? pissedness? At this
point, the humble author has run out of synonyms for being pissed off. Please stand by while she gets her thesaurus)
…resentment. He waited several minutes
for someone to answer it. Finally, in a
burst of inspiration, he remembered that all his servants had fled for the time
being. He would have to answer the door
himself.
Not right away, of course. First, he had to get another drink.
Five minutes later, the screams of his visitor were just
becoming audible. After careful deliberation,
he had decided on a large and expensive bottle of scotch. That would cure his thirst, no
doubt. He poured himself some and took
a sip.
"Injustice!" the voice screamed, "I know you're in
there! I can see you through the
window!"
Wufei? Quatre ran
and flung open the door.
The bedraggled and soaking wet pilot glared at him
through his eyelashes. Wufei muttered a
few obscenities under his breath.
Quatre glared back, sparks shooting from his eyes,
lighting the wooden door frame on fire, "Wufei," he snapped,
"what are you doing here?"
"…It was raining," Wufei explained, nervously
watching as the door began burning merrily.
Quatre's anger left him swiftly, and he smiled, "You
left Duo again, didn't you? (ahh…is Wufei so predictable?) Come on in!
I'll ummm…" he said, finally actually looking at the
handsome Chinese pilot wearing white opaque feety pajamas, "get you a robe
to wear until your clothes dry."
He brought Wufei inside, "You must be cold…I have
something that'll warm you up."
Wufei blanched.
Memories of Duo flooded back into his memory like water flooding into
the foyer of Quatre's house…
"Wufei, would you please close the door?"
Quatre asked politely.
"I was waiting until the rain put out the
fire."
Quatre blinked.
The door was on fire…when had that happened?
"…Aren't you going to do anything about it?"
The Arabian man nodded, closing the door himself. He was very careful not to burn himself.
Wufei looked at him a little nervously before he
remembered that things like doors on fire weren't supposed to affect him. But still…
Quatre smiled, "There, now we won't have such a
draft in here," he lead Wufei upstairs to change out of his wet
clothing.
A little time later, Wufei felt much better. He was sitting on Quatre's bright pink
couch, decked out in a short pink silk robe and some bright pink stockings
Quatre claimed would keep his legs warm.
He didn't mind that, but the fuzzy slippers were a bit much.
Quatre came back a few minutes later, carrying a large
liquor bottle and a couple glasses, "This should warm you up," he
said, setting the glasses down. He
poured himself a small glass and filled Wufei's completely.
He took a sip and refilled Wufei's glass.
He took another sip and refilled Wufei's glass.
"Are you try'in to get me drunk?" Wufei
glared.
Quatre said nothing and snuck some more into Wufei's
glass.
"I'll take that as a no," Wufei said, draining
his glass. It was nice of Quatre to be
so hospitable.
Quatre refilled the glass. He wondered how much it would take before Wufei was completely
plastered.
One and a half drinks later, Wufei was dancing drunkenly
around the room, singing. Quatre
couldn't make out the words. It sounded
like pink. Or it could be puke.
The blonde pilot's question was answered a few seconds
later when the singing pilot turned green (clashing horrible with his robe) and
ran off to the bathroom.
Quatre sighed, and ran after him.
"Quatre…" Wufei gasped, leaning up from the
toilet where he'd been occupied for the last ten minutes, "What d'ya think
of me?"
For a minute, Quatre didn't respond. Then, he said carefully, "Before or
after you threw up?"
Wufei looked up, confused and annoyed, "I mean about
me staying with Duo for so long."
"Honestly?"
Wufei nodded.
"I think you were a complete and utter idiot,"
Quatre answered, "and you should have left him a long time ago."
"…that was kind of blunt, for you."
"Well, I'm in a bad mood today. Life's a bitch. And you told me to be honest."
Wufei shrugged, "I thought you were an idiot for
staying with Trowa so long. He didn't
deserve you, after that whole thing with those animals.
Quatre shuddered, "Well, at least Heero doesn't seem
to mind."
"He wouldn't."
Finally, the stress of the day, the weather, and the
downright absurdity of the situation got to Wufei's hair tie. It chose this instant to snap, releasing his
hair from its tethered bounds.
It didn't move.
It was probably all that hair gel Wufei had applied this morning. Quatre reached out and poked it. Then, the hair gave a mighty shudder, and
fell down Wufei's back in waves of blackened silk.
Hmmm…nice…
Quatre thought.
Wufei
didn't notice, since the toilet once again beckoned.
Quatre
lay Wufei down on the bed.
Wufei
looked up, "You've been so nice, Winner," he murmured, "Letting
me in and letting me sleep here and everything."
"It's
all right, Wufei," Quatre said, "You know I love to help."
"Much
nicer than Maxwell. He just wants sex,
you know."
"Really?"
Quatre said, slipping himself between the sheets, right next to the still drunk
Wufei.
"Yup. Just
sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex sex.
All day long. Twenty-four hours
a day. I mean, it's all great and
wonderful, and each time is always better than the last, but…I need to sleep
sometimes, you know?"
Quatre blinked and started taking off his clothes…his own
clothes. Wufei was already naked.
There was a long silence, then:
"…What're you doin', Quatre?"
"Nothing."
"Injustice!" Wufei whined, "I just broke
up with Duo…"
A longer silence.
The longest silence yet.
A silence that seemed to stretch into the brink of
eternity.
A soft moan, followed by something that sounded like,
"Why not?"
And so, the curtains around the giant bed closed, and
Wufei didn't feel so bad about his break up anymore, and Quatre didn't feel
nearly so pissed. Far, far away, Trowa
and Heero were engaged in their own activities. Duo went to follow Wufei to Quatre's house, but ran into one of
Quatre's servants, Abdul, on the way.
They struck up a conversation and married a year later.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
THE END
