20-Sep-2000
Title: The Great Pickle Campaign
Author: Jay/dem. Contactable at carboxylated@yahoo.com
Archive: Yes to those with prior permission, otherwise-- all it takes is an email. ;-)
Category: Silly humor, fluff, OOC(?), yaoi.
Timeline: 'The Great Jello Crusade'
Disclaimer: Gundam Wing is quite sadly not mine, but in fact the property of Bandai, Sunrise, and other large corporations and companies I have no affiliation with. (Again, quite sadly.)
Warning/Rating: R. Lockjaw and the sexual connotations thereof.
Feedback: Hit me.
Notes:
I threatened to break someone's legs last week if they touched my breadstick.
And this eventually came out of it.
Please note that I have tons of inspiration and NO WRITING ABILITY as of now (moreso, as opposed to usually) so the wheels ain't turning so well. Sob!
It's just more silliness.
Moaning filled the room. Wufei's eyes drifted over to the general direction of Heero and Duo's room.
"Duo, cut it out!" He yelled, flushing from embarrassment.
The moaning continued.
"DUO--"
"Duo--" Trowa began to say.
"MAXWELL--"
"--is busy," he continued, succinctly. "Sucking--"
"Don't say it!" Wufei wailed.
Quatre walked in, yawning, stretching his grey sweatshirt and checkered pajamas.
"Quatre!" Trowa's eyes lit up, a smile gracing his features.
Quatre stopped for a moment, and stared. Then, very slowly, he pulled the waistband of his pajamas outwards, peering inside. "No," he said mournfully. "I don't believe so."
Wufei scowled, and began cutting his eggs with a sudden ferocity that had previously been reserved for battle and quality time with Treize. Trowa's normally stoic features rippled-- eyes widened, eyebrows raised-- before smoothing back into a nonchalant expression.
"Quatre, Catherine was thinking about visiting," he said sweetly. "I think it'd be a nice gesture to give her the master bedroom. I can take the second guestroom. Too bad it's only a twin. Will you be okay on the couch?"
Quatre's jaw dropped. His mouth opened and closed several times, before he snapped it shut. Then, he smirked. "I'll have a new addition built," he announced, grinning madly. "I've always wanted a waterbed."
"Oh, how sad."
"What's sad, Trowa?"
"I was just thinking, wouldn't be terrible if something or someone punctured your waterbed and you drowned in your sleep? " The taller boy gave a smile so syrupy sweet, it could have killed a diabetic. "The world would weep."
"Play nice, you two," mumbled Wufei, stuffing a fried egg into his mouth.
Quatre sniffed and walked over to the fridge; the icebox stood considerably taller than the little blond did. He opened it, inspecting the lower contents. Fumbling around, he secured a glass jar. Glancing furtively around to see if anyone had spotted him, he hugged it to his chest. Looking over at Trowa, who was sipping coffee and plotting his drowning death (no doubt), he slipped the jar of pickles under his sweatshirt.
/All mine!/ His mind was gleeful.
The proverbial angel chibi-Quatre on his right shoulder shook its head. /The best joy in the world is sharing with a loved one./
The devil chibi-Quatre sneered. /The best joy in the world is a crispy, crunchy restaurant style pickle all to yourself./
The angel chibi-Quatre countered. /Yeah? What about jello sex, huh? HUH? Pickles better than jello sex?/
Devil chibi-Quatre snorted. /Have you ever had pickle sex?/
Angel chibi-Quatre replied, doubtfully: /Well. no, I suppose not./
With one last look at his lover, Quatre scampered out of the kitchen, racing up the stairs.
Quatre sighed, satisfied. He placed the now half-empty jar of pickles in the fridge, a sign taped to it. "QUATRE'S PICKLES à TOUCH IT AND RASHID WILL BREAK YOUR LEGS."
"Wufei?" Heero's voice was a forced calm.
"Yes?"
"Mmmmfffff!!"
"What the hell was that?" Wufei asked, as a muffled shriek rent the air.
Pause. "Duo."
"What did you do to him, Yuy?!"
Long pause. "Wufei."
"Yes?"
"...do you know what lockjaw is?"
"MMMMFFFFFFFFF!"
Heero half-moaned, half-snapped, "Duo, can you not do that?"
"Mmmf."
"Duo."
"Mmf."
"...oh, God."
Duo walked into the kitchen, gingerly rubbing his jaw. They had to go to the emergency room, where they pried his jaw open. He was surprised that he could move his jaw and experience a whole new spectrum of pain. He sniffed. Anyone who spent that long in *that* position was bound to get a little cramped. but he could understand Heero's utter mortification.
/Still. was it necessary to wrap a towel around my head, along with his waist?/
He opened the fridge and ignored the piece of paper that fluttered to the ground. His eyes lit up.
/Pickles./ He nodded knowledgeably. /Nature's antidepressant./
Quatre cheerfully skipped into his kitchen, and stopped cold. The pickle jar lay on the counter, devoid of its green-salted fruit. The wonderfully saline verdant-colored liquid in which those aforementioned green-salted fruits floated was gone too.
He glanced at the floor, and at the single boot print on his warning message.
His left cheek twitched as his pupils dilated.
"Master Duo?"
"Hey, Rashid!"
"Ah... Master Quatre has... um..."
"Yeah?"
"Well... he... uh."
"Rashid?"
"Yes?"
"Is that a baseball bat behind your back?"
"First lockjaw, then this," Duo grumbled. "I had to persuade Rashid that Quatre was kidding and that he didn't need to break my kneecaps." He flopped, stomach down, on his bed. Heero smirked. As mortifying as the emergency room visit was, there was a substantial amount to say about the fun he'd had. He patted Duo's ass, comfortingly.
"Well, you still have your knees."
"I'm sure this is a great relief to you, koi," Duo said sarcastically.
"Amputee wheelchair sex isn't one of my fetishes."
"Pity."
Quatre tapped his fingers moodily. He supposed he'd better apologize to Duo for attempting to lynch him. but somehow, he wasn't really that remorseful.
Outside, Trowa tugged at his green felt outfit and sighed. The things he did for love.
"Little one?"
"Come in."
Trowa walked in silently and stood behind Quatre, waiting. Quatre slowly swiveled his chair around, his moody expression fast becoming an enraptured one. Try as he might, Trowa could not muster his dignity as he began to shuffle and chant in his pickle costume.
Quatre's eyes brightened to a suspicious degree. His lips trembled as he clapped his hands, in wordless delight.
While Quatre and Trowa slept, oblivious to the world, Angel chibi-Quatre and Devil chibi-Quatre held a whispered conversation.
The winged chibi sighed, looking dolefully at the sleeping blond. "Well. I suppose."
The horned chibi smiled, revealing sharp, white teeth. "I told you pickle sex was better than jello sex," it said, smugly.
"Treize?" Wufei shifted on the bed, settling into a comfortable position.
"Yes, little dragon?"
"Sometimes I think we're the only ones with a normal relationship."
"..."
"What?"
Treize secured the last metal buckle on his leather outfit and swung the fluffy pink handcuffs behind his back.
"Nothing, little dragon. Nothing at all."
[fin]
Dr. Robbinson: Jay, we're here to discuss your hentai obsession with
Gundam Wing and your... fan fiction material...
Jay: I like fluffy things!
Dr. Robinson: Jay, what exactly prompts you to write these stories?
Jay: I like fluffy things!
Dr. Robinson: You're really just very sad and alone inside, right?
Jay: I like fluffy things!
o_O;;
C&C?
Jay
Free psychiatric evaluations here! (Or just somewhere to send feedback. You know, whatever).