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Watching You	By : Maldoror Category: Gundam Wing/AC > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 2267 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing/AC, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Title: Watching You
Author: Maldoror
Genre: Humour, touch of angst, bit of sap, and a lemon
Pairings: 1x5
Rated: NC17
Archived: http://www.raygunworks.net and GWAddiction under the pen-name Maldoror
Feedback: Please! Particularly what you like/don't like about the fic.

Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to its owners (Bandai, Sunset, and a whole host of others, none of which are me) and I'm not making any money off of them. Not a single peanut. I also don't own the Gundam Wing intro song which I summarily co-opted for my own selfish use in this chapter. I don't know who that belongs to, but it's not me. Since I don't hesitate to borrow the boys and do all sorts of horrible things to them, no-one will mind me borrowing a line of their song, I'm sure...
------------------------

AN: This is for Dacia (she can make pretty good puppy dog eyes, even via email...). She wanted a Resolution to Watching You, from Wufei's POV, with sap, humor, romance, angst, pizza and a hot lemon, so here it is! *collapses*

PLEASE NOTE that this is a humor piece. Though I try to keep the boys fairly IC, it's not as serious as most of my other R-and higher rated fics. It's just humor and sex *cackle*

For once in my fics, EW didn't happen...if only because the previous episode made it obvious that Heero didn't take some namby-pamby vow not to kill anyone ever again (go boy!)

Chapter 2: Pizza...

---
The doorbell rang at 10 AM sharp. Heero looked up from his laptop and frowned at the innocent door, which bore it stoically. The door had been knocked on by evangelists, neighborhood watch types and people trying to sell clean-air ventilation systems to a Preventer agent busy trying to write reports or getting ready for a mission, so the door was used to having a glare like paint-thinner aimed at it. It could always console itself that it was getting off easy compared to the people standing on its doorstep.

Heero didn't think it was Wufei, who was punctual to a fault. So he wasn't exactly overcome with surprise when he opened the door.

"Maxwell. You just couldn't do it, could you."

"Stay away after what you told me?" Duo grinned while twisting his head this way ahat hat to see over Heero's shoulder. "He's not here yet, I take it."

"Duo..."

"Relax, relax. I guessed he'd arrive at the same time as the pizza, so I didn't think I'd be interrupting anything. Besides...I'm not sure there's anything to interrupt." Intelligent blue eyes gleamed.

"What do you mean?" Heero's voice was flat and neutral, as usual, but a very unusual tension suddenly wrenched at his guts, and his grip tightened on the innocent, long-suffering door, which groaned.

"Weeeeell..." Duo smirked, milking this for all it was worth. Heero realized that keeping his voice steady wasn't going to cut it with Duo, who could read him like a Gundam flight instruction manual.

"Tro said he saw Wuffers this morning; our Dragroppropped by the office to pick up some papers." Drawlrawled. "Tro said he had a face like a storm-cloud with a grudge."

Heero said nothing but the door squeaked in protest at the increased pressure from his fingers.

"Spill, Yuy." Duo leaned forward, closing in. "Tell me everything. You didn't get as far with him as you let me believe, did you...But you got far enough to send Mr You Can Break Bricks On My Arrogance Chang into a tailspin. And now you're roping him in, hence the pizza. And the chocolate cheesecake which I spent five minutes staring at yesterday since I couldn't believe Heero Yuy had anything so calorific in his kitchen. Am I right or am I wrong and don't give me any bullshit, I know I'm not wrong."

Heero shook his head, more in wonder than denial.

"Sorry, Duo, I promised I wouldn't say anything."

"What?" Duo scowled, then remembered who he was dealing with. Scowls wouldn't work. He made a stab at wounded instead. "Oh, okay. Never mind me. I'm just your best friend. The guy who's been listening to you mope about Wu for the last two years. Who gave you load of good advice on how to break the ice, which you always ignored. I'm just the guy who ordered your pizza, and defrosted your last-ditch attempt at seduction. But that's okay. I'll just go and crawl into a corner and die of curiosity."

"You do that." Heero said, closing the door, only to find a foot strategically placed to stop him.

"But before I leave-"

"Duo."

"I'll do what a friend really must do and make sure you at least have a chance."

With a movement that could only be imitated by a snake after a proper warm-up, Duo had slithered through Heero's grasp and the gap in the nearly closed door, dodged the grab, and hurled himself towards Heero's bedroom.

"Maxwell, get back here!" Heero snarled. He closed and locked the door automatically, then threw himself after the lithe figure. He staggered as he reached his bedroom, which had been bare and rigidly tidy before Hurricane Maxwell had come ashore.

"Duo...how...you only had three seconds, how do you do it?" Heero asked weakly, leaning against the doorjamb and looking around the disaster zone - clothes tumbled from hangers onto the floor, underwear torn from the drawers and tossed on the bed, with a pair of boxers having made it as far as the windowsill.

"I'm a demolition specialist." Duo reminded him absently, fishing somewhere deep in the wardrobe's recess. "Boots...Ah! Perfect! Okay, here's what you're going to wear."

"Wear?" Heero stared at the clothes Duo was throwing on the bed, then glanced down at the perfectly adequate ones he'd put on this morning. He was dressed pretty much as usual; Preventer uniform pants, and a comfortable, loose, old tank-top.

"And these."

"Duo...you're my best friend. I'm not comfortable with you choosing my underwear."

"Well, I'll let Wu do it in the future, assuming you two ever get that far. Come on, get dressed. Oh wait, did you shower first? Hey, what did I tell you about pointing a loaded glare at someone? Come on, grab these clothes, shower, I'll make sure the bedroom's clean - just in case you need it, hey, miracles happen."

Heero had stood up to two armies and faced them down, but he knew when he was outmatched. He found himself under the streaming water jet, glowering at the shower curtain a few minutes later - unlike the front doohe che curtain wasn't used to this treatment; the droplets running down it looked like sweat drops of terror.

The thing was...Heero was rather glad Duo was here. He was...nervous. It had been so easy the previous day - Heero flushed at the tactile memory of a body against his own...With a mission, murderer and mayhem in the mix, he'd been comfortable, in control; he'd been able to whisper what he really felt to the man he'd grown to love these last few years. Now though, he was going out there naked - well, dressed by Duo, which would probably come down to the same thing - and in a situation for which he had never, ever been trained. For someone who had been trained for every aspect of his life up until now, the dizzying number of way cou could screw this up were making him nauseous.

Even the feelings themselves were making him edgy, they were still a bit unfamiliar, and frightening in their strength. The spark had started during the war...Acly, ly, when they'd been locked up together in an OZ cell. Talk about ways to bond (no doubtful pun intended). Without even fully realizing it, he'd come out of that cell with one best friend and one love interest which he'd been quite unable to do anything about until they became partners, and gotten to know each other a bit better. For three years he'd watched Wufei carefully, analytically...fanatically. And very discreetly, that went without saying. He was fascinated by this man. They were both warriors at the peak of perfection, but otherwise so different. Where Heero was ice, Wufei was fire. Where Heero buried his emotions, Wufei burned them on a bonfire and scattered the ashes. Where Heero let cold, hard barriers protect the young man slowly coming to life inside him, Wufei used his arrogance and sarcasm to hide something that had been hurt once too often.

But there was one particular area where they could be twins, Heero reflected, ing ing into the mirror. You couldn't drag a clear-cut, emotionally true statement from either of them if you used a pair of pliers.

It was Wufei who'd set the cadence for their partnership, though Heero didn't blame him, and was brutally honest enough to admit that he'd quite happily joined in, rather than examine more closely emotions he didn't know what to do with. So Heero wore the hard, cold persona of the killer he'd been all his life, all about efficiency and cruel choices. Wufei made sure Heero knew he wasn't impressed by constantly breaking sticks of hard wit all over Heero's stony facade. The routine they'd developed helped two unsociable types to work together without killing each other. Or, even worse, getting too close. It worked well. Too well. They'd spent three years with Preventers as one of bes best teams they had...and quite unable to break out of the imprisoning masks they'd created.

It was Duo, of course, who made sure they didn't continue on like that until retirement. A year of poking and prodding from his friend brought Heero to the full realization that he loved his surly, sharp-tongued partner. And Duo was the one who assured him it wasn't a lost cause, when Heero was about to give up before even trying. That mission yesterday had proven him rightero ero knew Wufei well now; those were the reactions of someone who felt a great deal more towards Heero than Wufei wanted to, or knew what to do with.

But that wasn't going to make things easy.

Heero opened the bathroom door to find his room miraculously tidy again - though he made a mental note to himself to not open the wardrobe again until he could do so with an avalanche beacon and a friend standing by with a shovel. He knew how Duo dealt with cleaning.

"Wow..." Duo was in the middle of the room, staring at him in amazement. Then he bounced over and pulled Heero into a first-class bear hug. "My "My baby boy is all grown up!"

"Duo, were there any bones you particularly wanted broken, or should I choose for you?"

"Aw come on, don't be like that." Duo hugged him again and spun away before Heero could retaliate. "I'm off! Now remember what I've been telling you for the last few years. Tell him what you feel! Don't play that stupid game of yours!"

"Great advice, Duo." Heero muttered and his voice sounded surprisingly raw. "Can you drop by Wufei's apartment and give him the same?"

Duo's grin was still in place, but his eyes were warm and sympathetic. "Just...follow your feelings, Heero. Your instincts are better than you think, even for this. And if that doesn't help, tell him that if he breaks your heart, I'll make his life a living hell until the end of the universe."

"Thanks, Duo."

"The same goes for you if you screw this up."

"Get lost. Isn't Trowa wondering where you went?"

"What are you talking about? He's waiting for me in the car outside!"

"Isn't he wondering what you're doing here?"

"Uh, again, 'What are you talking about?'. He knows exactly what I'm doing here and he's only sitting out in the car because, I quote, 'seeing Heero in this condition would be too painful to bear'."

"You told him."

"Duh. You see, me and Tro have this little something called 'com-mu-ni-ca-tion'."

"Fine. That's good-"

"In fact, once I get him in bed, I can't get him to shut up!"

"Wonderful. Thank you for that lovely visual. Now will you get the hell out?"

"Ta-ta-taa...coommunicaation!"

Heero went towards the side-table where he kept his gun, but Duo had slammed the door behind him before he'd managed to open the drawer.

He glared at the door that was still quaking from Duo's abrupt departure...then dropped the scowl. Duo was the best friend he had, in this and everything else. Okay, he was brash, abrasive, extroverted, noisy, arrogant, pushy, talkative, and waaay too nosy for his own good...Heero scratched his head, trying to remember what point he was trying to make. Ah yes. Duo. One hell of a good friend. Who knew that Heero needed all the encouragement he could get, in subtle, apparentlysingsing ways.

He sat down with a sigh, reaching for his laptop - he wanted to finish as much of the report as he could so that it wouldn't distract either him or Wufei. A crinkle and an unexpected hardness in the back of his pants made him freeze in the movement. What the...he didn't have anything in his pockets, he'd checked when slipping into his jeans. He fished around his back pocket.

Drew out three flat foil-wrapped objects and a small tube of-

"*Maxwell!*"
---
Wufei stood on the doorstep and, despite his exhaustion and uncertainty, squared his shoulders arrogantly.

Somehow that didn't help.

What the hell was he hanging around out here for?! This was just Heero, gods damn it! For more than three years, they'd fought back to back like brothers!

Though what they'd been doing face to face last night was not something you'd do to a sibling by any stretch of the imagination...

...maybe he should just tell Yuy that he would write the report by himself this time, and go back to his apartment where he could have his nervous breakdown in peace and quiet.

Something had shattered inside Wufei last night, and it had let loose a small part of him that he'd so carefully locked away years ago. Actually, he'd stuck it in an iron box, welded it shut with Gundanium, and dumped it into a hardening concrete pillar, part of the foundation of Wufei's present day persona; cold, hard, sarcastic, mission-orientated and not at all interested in partners, perfect or otherwise.

Heero's words last night had...cracked something. And, wan ean ease that would have left Houdini gasping, that buried part of Wufei - unbidden desires, hopeless sentiments, unrequited lust - had wiggled free and temporarily taken over, and he'd thrown himself at his partner like a starving tiger on a can of catfood.

And it had been all a lie.

He'd known - *known* - that Heero was trying to bait the killer. But for an instant, like in a fit of madness, he'd let a part of himself believe and-...

Fortunately Heero had brought him back to reality before he embarrassed himself too much - a - a flash of memory; grinding groin against groin, hands flying over Heero's bare chest, a desperate, longing kiss -

- ...okay, the only way he could have embarrassed himself more would have involved whipped cream and a feather, but then Heero had been all business. Of course.

It was just the job. Heero was a dedicated soldier, and much too cold and tough to let something like - like what had happened affect him in any way. Wufei should know; he'd been working with the guy for three years now!

And longing for him even longer.

No he didn't! Time to get another box ready; the concrete was being poured into the hideous cracks that had appeared in his facade, soon this rebellious and suicidal sentiments would be buried again and Wufei did *not long for Heery Yuy*!

They were close, of course. Heero was his friend and his partner, and someone Wufei admired immensely. In these circumstances, it was fairly normal that he was the opersperson with a select invitation to Wufei's more involving dreams. After all, he wasn't about to have a wet dream about a perfect stranger, right? And that was just a dream anyway. Dreams didn't mean anything. Why just last night - no, he hadn't slept last night. Not surprisingly. Which was why he was so goddamn tired. But the night before, when they were still on the mission, he'd dreamt he'd been wandering around the OZ lunar base holding a report on the density ofen cen cheese, dressed in a hula skirt because of some brilliant plant by that damn Maxwell, and every time he opened a door he'd see Relena Peacecraft and Dorothy Catalonia boinking like weasels behind it. So obviously dreams could not be taken at face value.

Real life, on the other hand, needed to be dealt with promptly, before a neighbor wondered why he'd been standing on Heero's doorstep for five minutes with his hand raised to knock.

The sharp rap on the door helped him centre himself. No need to get tense! He'd just go in there, write the report, and leave. And Heero would be his usual icy self. It was just Heero after all. Same old stony-faced, uncaring, unfeeling-

The door opened soundlessly. So did Wufei's mouth.

"Hello, Wufei."

"Ur."

Oh...sweet...mercy...

"Come in. Pizza arrived ten minutes ago. You're five minutes late."

"..."

No way. No way does Heero own a pair of tight jeans and a muscle shirt like that!
I puI put it in the oven."

"..."

I should know, I remember every article of clothing he's ever worn! Er...

"Are you going to come in, or are we going to eat it on the doorstep?"

"...Hello."

Oh smooth.

Heero turned and walked to the kitchen area. Wufei followed as if attached to those jeans by a very short leash (his rebellious desires, still not caught aoxedoxed, had found refuge in his imagination and were providing the visuals). He stared as Heero reached up for the plates - the tight black t-shirt riding up then down his back muscles like the darkest chocolate pouring over a rich creamy dessert. Right, I'm hungry, that's what's wrong with me, Wufei thought, dazed. Lack of sleep, exhaustion, and an insulin dip. Nothing to worry about-

Heero leaned over to get the pizza from the oven and Wufei had to go sit down.

Okay. Okay. He was visibly having a hard time getting his control back. Those clothes weren't helping either. Maybe Heero should take them off. Maybe Wufei should go and put a bullet in his brain. What was wrong with him?! He worked with this man constantly, sparred with him, killed with him, fought by his side, and they often shared a room when on a mission. And this was Heero Yuy! It wasn't a problem of gender - Wufei knew himself well enough to have realized that he was going to be extremely finicky in opening his heart to anyone, and that summarily cutting out half of the world's population would thus definitely insure his celibacy. No, the problem wasn't that Heero was a man, it was that he was Heero! His Gundam had been friendlier!

If Heero realized what kind of thoughts were going through Wufei's mind...that didn't bear thinking about. Heero lived for missions, and was as contemptuous of affection and romance as Wufei was. That was why those feelings - tiny, trivial, completely negligible, nothing worth getting killed over! - that's why those feelings had been buried in the first place. He never for a second imagined he'd have a chawithwith Heero. Three years they'd worked together, and the man had never dated once! Cold as steel. Completely uninterested. Yes sir.

Wufei suddenly realized there was a plate with a slice of pizza on it hovering in front of him, and those stormy blue eyes were looking at him, then traveling to a spot somewhere near the window to see what he'd been staring at for the last five minutes.

"Thanks." He managed to croak and grabbed the plate, concentrating his self-directed contempt and anger onto the innocent slice of dough and toppings, which almost started curling at the corner as a result.

They ate in silence for a few minutes - the rule and the rituals of their post-mission report writing; the laptop was on the coffee table waiting to be used after they finished the first two slices and started leisurely on their third. Wufei wondered if he'd get that far. He'd struggled to swallow the first three bites of what looked to be excellent deluxe pizza and was as palatable as chalk covered in slime. It stuck in his throat like cement. He shoved the slice around his plate a bit, and snuck a glance at Heero. He needed something solid to cling to, to centre himself. Heero was the source of danger, but you also couldn't find anything more solid than Yuy around now that the manufacture of Gundanium was outlawed.

He avoided looking at the blue eyes the color of summer storms - in his present state they'd toss him around like a hapless petrel. He concentrated on the rock-hard planes of his face, the firm jaw chewing the pizza serenely; he was leaning over the laptop and probably writing the report in his mind already. All business. As usual. Wufei felt himself relax, and took another bite out of his pizza, which was suddenly a bit more appetizing. Heero was as cold as ice, and wouldn't be bothered at all by...what had happened yesterday. The one-time soldier wouldn't mention it, wouldn't even know there was something worth mentioning; it was a mission, duty before anything else, nothing special-

*Hmmmm, like silk....You just can't let anyone in, can you, not even me...You are so beautiful....*

"...Wufei?"

Wufei licked his lips and glanced down at pizzpizza which had been crushed into an interested geometric shape by his fist convulsing around it. "Muscle spasm." He said bluntly, using his fast frittering reserve and his bloody-minded stubbornness to make his voice cool and business-like.

"Oh." Heero looked at him calmly - always, always so controlled - even last night, when he'd- Wufei hastily put down the pizza's remains before he could do it more harm and send more toppings tumbling down into his plate.

"You normally have better control than that. Something bothering you?"

Wufei froze with the plate half-way to the coffee table, and curdled up inside. Heero's voice had been normal; that is, as expressive and kindly as a two by four. There might have been a slight probing element to it; Wufei knew they tended to poke each other for weaknesses regularly. He was always a bit leery of appearing as a less than perfect partner for Heero, who was a hard act to follow at the best of times. Now though....for an instant of horror, he thought his feelings must have been painted all over his face in fluorescent green paint, but his facade remained intact. It was about all he had left at this point; that escaped part of himself that represented his desires, his longings - and his libido - had already finished destroying his orderly mind, and was starting on the foundations with a jackhammer.

"No, I'm fine." He grunted and quickly went to get a napkin and a new slice. Hopefully Heero would take that at face value, then they could write the report, and Wufei could leave, and become a hermit or something.

"You aren't bothered about what happened last night, are you?"

Wufei carefully put down the second slice of pizza before it suffered the same fate as the first.

"No, I know it was for the mission." Unfortunately, his voice had tripped ever so slightly on the word 'mission'. Goddamn it!

"You seemed rather affected, though." Wufei thought he caught a flash of blue through dark lashes. Damn it all, what did Yuy want from him, a tearful confession?! Blood?! A wash of fury - very handy, fits all occasions and comes in all sizes - helpufeiufei steady his mask and gave his next words an arrogant snap.

"It just goes to show that I'm a better actor than you gave me credit for." He sneered and took a bite out of his pizza.

"Yes. Yes you are." Heero said. His voice was noe hue hundred percent neutral. Perfect.

"You just seemed very angry afterwards. After the need for acting was over." Heero added, making Wufei, who thought he'd squirmed out of that one just fine, wince. Hermit. On a mountaintop. Remote from civilization. Eating bugs and meditating all day.

"Of course I was furious, Yuy!" Anger to the rescue once more. Always a reliable ally. Anger covered other feelings like a whitewash covered pastels. "I don't enjoy being pawed by anyone!"

"...but-"

"It was for the missio kno know! That's why I didn't kick your ass!" Wufei snapped. "Are you going to finish that?"

Heero was still at his first slice, and Wufei wished he would hurry up; the sooner they got through this torture session of a meal, the sooner they could get to the mission-report writing part and Heero would be all business again. But Heero wasn't eating, damn him. He was glaring at the slice on his plate as if he wanted to shoot it.

"So you didn't enjoy rolling around in bed, hm?" Heero's voice sounded tight, and probing.

What the hell was this?! "Sorry Yuy." Wufei snarled, resisting the urge to hurl pizza into that cold, unyielding, *uncaring* face. But this was the game, wasn't it. Heero was the wall, and Wufei the furious pounding attack against it, using words as artillery. It was that well-worn habit, their old game, that made him say the next sentence, even as he writhed inside. "If you really wanted someone to enjoy it, you should have taken Relena on that mission with you."

As usual, Heero flinched ever so slightly. He always did when Duo - and, more rarely, Wufei - teased him about Relena in a romantic context. He claimed it was because he still remembered Relena in what she herself deprecatingly called her 'fluffy pink phase', before they'd become real friends. But Wufei often wondered - at four in the morning after a particularly hot dream involving Heero and a lot of chocolate - if the small part of Heero that was somewhat human longed for Relena, not that the soldier would know what to do with those feelings. Who featured in his dreams, if he had them? Wufei realized - deep inside where he didn't have to look at it too closely - that it wouldn't be him, it would be either Relena or Duo, depending on Heero's preferences; people who were his best friends and who were actually nice to him, and good-looking and fun to be with. At some level, Wufei did realize he was exaggerating Heero's mechanistic traits in his own mind; it was easier to imagine that the soldier never had such a weakness, such a failing, that he never had those kind of dreams, becaWufeWufei couldn't bear the thought of someone else being in them.

"Relena would have certainly been more pleasant about it than you." Heero ground out, arms crossed on his chest and glaring at his plate on the table. "And she can dance a whole lot better."

"There you go. Next time, ask her along." Wufei said, throwing this like a rock at his own inner desires, and taking a defiant bite from his chalk and slime pizza.

"You're as cuddly as a dragon with a tooth-ache, Chang, and just as safe to be around." Heero gave him a nasty look, then grimaced. "But I'm more afraid of Dorothy than I am of you, and if she caught me rolling around a bed with her girlfriend, she'd be surer to peg me than that two-bit assassin last night...Are you alright?"

Cough "You-" wheeze "Y-" Splutter "You're j-joking!"

"I thought you knew about Relena and Dorothy. And I don't joke." Heero pointed out, dryly and unnecessarily.

Wufei tried to cough up the traitorous slice of pizza that had decided to strangle him, while he shook his head to get rid of that mental image, too uncomfortably close to his dream the other night. It was reminding him of many other dreams he'd had, that couldn't be true but oh gods did he want them to be!

He nearly hurled himself off the couch when he felt the small pat on his back. *No. Don't get close. Not now.* His defenses were paper thin, they could tear with one touch, one wrong word-

Heero looked er ser surprised at Wufei's reaction. He snatched back his hand, curled it into a fist in his lap, and glared at it.

"Need a glass of water?" He growled.

"I'm fine." Wufei blessed the maker of his pizza; he now had an excuse for a weak and strangled voice. Next he had to get his body under control. The inch of space between Heero and himself - the couch was a two-seater and pretty small - was about to spontaneously combust.

"You should finish your lunch." Wufei added, voice trembling. Heero was very close - and his face was shut, firm and hard. His impenetrable front had been smooth and uncracked last night and all through this hell of a meal; he didn't give a damn. And Wufei...Wufei did. Way too much, he had to admit it now, to himself at least. Right now he'd sell his soul to get Heero off the couch and back into his chair, because that small, wild, insane part of him, safely locked up all those years, had now finished wrecking the joint and was busy placing demolition charges around his self-restraint. If Heero touched Wufei again, he'd snap like he had last night, and he'd be all over Heero like a second skin, and then he'd have to commit ritual suicide, assuming Heero didn't put him out of his misery in a rare act of mercy, and-

- and then Heero would probably be horrified at all this- this unrequited sentimentality, this *weakness*, and no longer want to be his partner...

And that Wufei couldn't live with.

"I don't want any more pizza...maybe we should write the report." Heero's voice was calm, uncaring. Back to business. Wufei glanced at him gratefully, and thought he caught the strangest look in Heero's eyes for just a fraction of a second - but no, there was nothing there. And writing the report sounded like a very good idea indeed.

Heero dragged the laptop over to him. Wufei stared at it in horror; normally Heero sat in that chair - that one, over there, light years away, go, now! - and wrote the report, and Wufei sat in the couch and added the bits he thought appropriate, and there was no touching or sitting together required!

Calm, clear and cold as ice, Heero drew the laptop towards him, opened the mission planner-

//JUST WILD BEAT! COOMUNICAATION!//

The music blasted out at approximately 180 decibels, giving Wufei the heart attack he'd been rather expecting since Heero opened the door.

Heero, with the reflexes of a startled tiger, managed to slam an order into the keys to stop the noise before their eardrums caved in.

Silence fell like shards of shattered plate glass.

"...what was that?" Wufei finally asked weakly, suspended in disbelief.

Heero's hands were like claws on the keys. Wufei could see his handsome profile; there was a spot of angry red on his cheeks, his eyes gleamed like a well-oiled gun.

"...Joke. Maxwell. Here earlier."

"Oh." Wufei noted absently the return to soldier-mode, and he couldn't blame Heero for that. But Wufei actually felt surprisingly relieved. First, the shiver in Heero's facade was a slight consolation to Wufei's tattered pride. Next, Maxwell was now involved, and he could always get decently mad at Maxwell.

Heero was staring at the laptop with a very strange expression on his usually cold face. There was the scowl Wufei expected but it was nowhere near as murderous as it should be, and there was something almost tense about the set of his mouth. Tense but resolved. Probably resolved about killing Maxwell, and tense about how much fuss that would cause...

"You've finished the pizza, right?" Heero snapped. It was his usual tones. Maybe even harsher than usual.

"Yes." He was never going to eat pizza again anyway. Never eat anything else except for those bugs and locusts in his lonely hermitage on the mountaintop.

"We were still on the mission last night. When you had dessert. Thought you might not have been able to enjoy it like you usually do." Heero said, as if he were explaining how to calculate the tensile strength of Gundanium armor plating.

Wufei had enjoyed the dessert quite thoroughly; by then he'd assumed that the killer had been an empty threat by the drug cartel, since he'd not seen anybody following them at any point that day. But he didn't feel like revealing his lapse oncenncentration to Heero, so he nodded, wondering vaguely where this was going.

"I thought- I bought some dessert. Chocolate."

Heero stood up, to go get it presumably; choice in the matter was apparently nonexistent. Wufei's mouth was hanging somewhere near his l - l - chocolate? - and he wasn't about to stop him. In fact he found himself tingting to his feet and wandering after his partner. Heero Yuy had chocolate in his kitchen. Now this he had to see.

The cheesecake actually looked quite good. Wufei stared at it in disbelief as Heero rummaged around a drawer. This felt like a dream.

Then Heero rummaged in another drawer, a bit more quickly.

Then a third drawer, noisily, before shutting it with a crash and leaning against the counter. Wufei stared at his back in alarm; he could almost see the rage roil off of his per ler like a heat wave.

"...Heero?"

"Sorry. There...there appear to be no spoons - or knives or forks - available."

"We can wash some-" Wufei started, rather surprised a clean freak like Heero had run out of clean cutlery.

"No." Heero ground out, still without turning around. "You don't understand. There aren't any-...Maxwell. Another joke."

Wufei stared at Heero, at the tight shirt that sculpted his body, just begging for a hard caress, at the jeans, that couldn't be more attractive if painted on, at the rich, dreamy chocolate cheesecake on the counter between them and no spoons.

Amazing! This was almost exactly the scenario of many of his more interesting dreams!

A quick, disbelieving pinch brought the nascent hope crashing down around his ears. Damn. He was awake. How unfair was that. He should have known. If this were a dream, Heero would have already whipped off that tight black shirt and plred red the cheesecake all over his-

"That's okay." He found himself saying. "We'll go to my place, eat it there." Though right now even chocolate cheesecake seemed to be rather a let down.

"Yes. That might be best." Heero finally turned around. Wufei was slightly mollified to see that his eyes were wild, and he glanced nervously around his own apartment as if expecting the jaws of a giant trap to come crashing down around them. At least Wufei was not the only one being savaged by this cruel lunch.
TBC...
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