Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Deadly Beautiful ❯ Deep, Meaningful Sleepover Confessions ( Chapter 50 )

Disclaimer: If by some freakish chance, I did own Gundam Wing and its creative and intellectual properties etc. etc., I would have deadlines. And I would never make them. Ever. And then I wouldn't own it anymore.

 

Deadly Beautiful - Chapter 50

 

by danse

 

~*~

 

The doctor who had come to pay a house call had been positive about Heero's chances of recovering completely, once he had some food and rest to help out his immune system. So, when Heero's ribs started to knit and he insisted on trading sleeping places with Trowa, the other teen didn't fight him for very long. He had been starting to miss his bed anyway, although the couch wasn't all that bad to sleep on, considering.

 

No, Trowa really didn't mind sleeping in his own bed again, he had to admit as he woke up and stretched, arching his back and groaning contentedly. He rolled over and yawned as he took a look at his alarm clock. Nine AM; he supposed it was about time to get up.

 

He pulled the warm covers off of his legs and slid his feet to the floor, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes as he got up and padded out into the hallway in his boxers, aiming for the bathroom. He scratched his head and yawned once more as he opened the door. These days, Trowa was sleeping later than he ever had. He could almost feel his body getting gradually flabbier and lazier from the lack of daily training (although in truth, his muscles were still far from disappearing). The good thing was that he really didn't care. It felt great to do nothing, like a real teenager, for once. He stepped into the shower.

 

***

 

When Trowa finally wandered into the living room, heading for the kitchen and the possibility of some breakfast, Heero was propped up on the couch, surfing the TV channels. The two of them were alone in the room, as Catherine was holed up in her bedroom, studying (she was working towards a certificate in accounting, to make money safely from home).

 

Trowa nodded at Heero on his way past the couch, receiving a slight inclination of the head in return as Heero flicked his gaze at him. “Want anything to eat?” Trowa said, turning his head to talk as he kept walking.

 

Heero slowly and carefully turned his upper body, so that he was partially facing the kitchen behind him. “Toast sounds great. I can't have much else with these antibiotics.”

 

Trowa grunted in acknowledgement, and after a few minutes of mucking around, he emerged from the kitchen with a bowl of cereal for himself and a couple of slices of toast for Heero. He plunked himself in the armchair as he handed the invalid his plate, and they sat in a companionable silence for several minutes, broken only by the sounds of chewing and the sound effects of the children's cartoon that Heero had stopped flipping channels at.

 

“You ever watch this show before?” Trowa asked eventually.

 

“Hmm? No. I don't have time for TV,” Heero responded, taking another bite of toast.

 

“It's about a little horse with magical powers that can fly around, and he saves all the other animals from danger. Usually danger caused by people being stupid. He's got, like, a talking sheep and a little girl for sidekicks. Kids in this country love it; I think it might even be in English, too.”

 

“Really.” Heero's voice was flat and held just a hint of disinterest, but then he glanced around at Trowa, the shadow of a grin on his face. “Do you watch it often?” he asked innocently.

 

Trowa twisted his mouth, giving his guest a haughty glare that was rarely seen on his features. “No,” he said succinctly. “The Care Bears are on at the same time.”

 

The Japanese teen's face dropped into an expression of surprise for an instant, but then it curled back up into one of mirth. Heero's thin frame started to shake as he chuckled, and then he winced and put a hand to his side as he flopped back on the pillows behind him. “Itaitaitai... it hurts to laugh,” he ground out between hiccups, his sides shaking more. At that, Trowa started chuckling too, and the two young men could do nothing but collapse into helpless, hysterical giggles as the closing credits of the cartoon rolled in front of them. It was fortunate for them that Catherine didn't walk in on that scene and pronounce them both insane on the spot.

 

As the laughter died down, between further small fits of that semi-hysterical giggling from Heero at the hitching pain in his side, they both sighed and relaxed back into their seats. “You know what, Trowa?” Heero said, studying the TV. When Trowa grunted, Heero rolled his head towards him on the pillow, looking at him sideways. “Dying really hurts like hell. I suggest you avoid it at all costs.”

 

Trowa raised an eyebrow, smirking again. “Duly noted,” he answered. He glanced back at the TV. “Oh, look, we've missed Care Bears.”

 

“What the hell is a Care Bear anyway?” Heero suddenly blurted out. “The name alone sounds as ridiculous as that horse show.”

 

Trowa threw a pillow at Heero, knowing that since Heero was in pain, the pillow's return arc to his face wasn't going to have a lot of force behind it. At least, not compared to Heero's normal strength.

 

***

 

Trowa Barton and Heero Yuy were similar in a lot of ways: both were quiet, determined, and had sick senses of humour, which they generally knew to keep to themselves. Given this unlikely chance to get to know each other (nearly the first person either of them had really gotten to know, on a friendly basis), they bonded very easily for two people who had trouble trusting. Maybe that was another reason they got along so well.

 

One night, the two of them lingered over a meal of Catherine's spaghetti while she was out doing some grocery shopping. The kitchen was quiet, and it was just after Heero had started trying to spend more time moving around after his ribs started healing properly. Heero poked at his half-finished plate with his fork. “Your sister's a great person, Trowa, she really is, but she needs to take some cooking lessons.”

 

Trowa frowned at his new friend over his water glass, but there was a twinkle in his eyes; he wasn't offended. “You could start doing the cooking. Pull your weight around here for a change, instead of lying on the couch all day.” Trowa grinned and ducked as Heero launched a crust of bread off of his fork, aiming for his face. “Tch, touchy bastard,” he said softly, still grinning.

 

“Jackass,” Heero muttered around a mouthful of pasta, obviously not minding the taste that much. “Your bedside manner is awful.”

 

“I earn my pay,” retorted Trowa, who, of course, did the nursing bit for free.

 

Witty repartee concluded, they ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Heero studied Trowa as he took a drink of water, and then set down his glass and folded his hands in front of him on the table, ignoring the rest of his supper. “Are you keeping in contact with anyone?” he asked.

 

Trowa glanced up at him and then back down at his plate. “Not really. Haven't talked to Quatre since... the accident, I think?” he answered, a note of surprise in his own voice.

 

Heero raised an eyebrow. “He's the only one you have any means of contacting?”

 

Trowa shrugged a shoulder. “Quatre has everybody's info. He kinda deals with all that stuff, you know?” He frowned at the other teen. “Why? Who do you talk to?” he demanded.

 

“Quatre, Wufei, and now you. Clearly, you're the only one who knows I'm still alive right now. Right?”

 

Trowa nodded reassuringly. “What about Duo?” he asked.

 

Heero looked startled at the very idea. “What about him? Why would I talk to Duo?” he said.

 

“Why only not Duo, then?”

 

Trowa guessed that Heero hadn't really considered it this way before. “Well... um... of course I've talked to Quatre, and here I am with you now. As for Wufei, we were travelling together, so we had to talk eventually.” Heero examined one of his fingernails as he spoke, scratching dirt out from underneath it.

 

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” Trowa said, gesturing as he talked. “You have talked to and traveled with the one person in the group who nobody really likes except for maybe Quatre, who insults you and is constantly rude or antisocial—and everyone else, for that matter—but you haven't talked to Duo. Who you've gone on missions with.”

 

“Well, fuck, I've talked to him on missions. And we had a conversation at Quatre's after that dinner party mission. It's not like I avoid him. What are you getting at here?” Heero was agitated and on the defensive, which Trowa had never thought he would live to see.

 

“Nothing, really,” Trowa said, sipping his water placidly. The glass was almost empty. “I just wondered why, that's all. No big deal.” He put his glass down. “But, for that matter, you two used to want to kill each other, and that seems to have stopped. How did you meet, anyway? You already seemed to know each other when we all met at that base in Algeria.”

 

Heero exhaled loudly, staring at the table. “I had a mission back at the beginning of May, which involved infiltrating a school to get to a specific target. He was assigned to be my roommate. After two days we got in a deadly fight, but he got away.” Heero paused. “We actually ended up fighting there because it turned out that we'd had conflicting missions about a month before that. I'd given him a wound that I recognized. The same target was involved with both of my missions, too.”

 

Trowa nodded slowly in understanding. “Ahh, so that's what happened. Quatre and I were both wondering.”

 

Heero gave Trowa a shrewd look. “Why don't you talk to Quatre anymore?” he asked suddenly.

 

Trowa was too surprised by the question to notice that Heero had just changed the subject. “...Why do you ask?” he said slowly.

 

The Japanese boy didn't take his eyes off his quarry. “You two seemed so close. And now you haven't spoken to him for over two weeks, at least. Who knows when you last spoke to him before he called you to say I was missing?” Trowa fidgeted under Heero's stern gaze, and Heero realized he'd hit a touchy subject. He didn't back off. “It's... peculiar.”

 

Colour rose in Trowa's cheeks as he opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, not finding a good way to say what he wanted to say. “Th-the thing is, Quatre and I... um... well, I guess we're kind of not speaking at the moment. There was... some awkwardness, and now it's tough.” He looked at Heero. “You know?”

 

Heero looked completely baffled. Trowa cast about for a better way to say-but-not-say what he was trying to get at.

 

“Well, when you have a partnership with someone—when you spend a lot of time together working on something—you really get to know them well. And sometimes that, uh, it turns into a closer friendship. And that kind of thing. But... then if that happens, you know, it isn't always a good thing, and maybe one of you isn't sure about it, and that can lead to problems. Although,” Trowa amended quickly, “that isn't necessarily what comes of it. Sometimes it's a really good thing for everyone, and everyone's happy.” He studied Heero again. “Do you understand what I'm saying here?” he asked helplessly.

 

Heero stared back. “No,” he answered, raising an eyebrow. The look of confusion was still on his face.

 

Trowa buried his head in his arms, sighed loudly, and then suddenly stood up. Without another word, they both started to clear the table.

 

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A/N: Woohoo, the big 50. You'll be happy to know that I expect only around 30 more chapters before the end of the first, and by far the biggest, arc (of two). Also, I am so very excited for Chapters 51 and 52, and when you see them, you will know why. I apologize for my continued slowness; I didn't write much over Christmas holidays as I was too busy drinking and being social, and my beta reader is at least as busy as I am nowadays. We try, between us. See you soon.