24 Dec 2002
Title: Dead Man
Author: Kimmie (JaenKaeGW@hotmail.com)
Archive: GWAddiction, GWNation
Category: shonen ai, fluff, sap, WAFF, slight AU
Pairings: 1+3
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, I mean no harm, I have no money... Stuff like that. Yeah.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None.
Spoilers: A few for the end of the GW series and slightly EW references. However, I have taken extreme liberties with the timeline and have put two years between the Eve Wars instead of one.
Notes: This is as fluffy as I get nowadays. And, I put Zechs in? Note that I don't like Zechs and never let him be happy in my fics. This is fluffy, sappy, *and* WAFF-y, though. It's 10 handwritten pages long, as done in my spare time over the span of about a week. So, here's a contest entry and a GWA Christmas fic all in one! Enjoy!
One dark and stormy night, Heero Yuy opened up the trunk of his car and found the body of a dead man. His name was Zechs Merquise, otherwise known as Milliardo Peacecraft. "Heero! Good buddy, good pal... how *are* you doing?"
One of Heero's eyebrows raised. "How did you get into the trunk of my car?"
"I stole your keys."
Heero quickly checked his pocket. "But, *I* have my keys."
Zechs smiled. "I grabbed your keys, went out and unlocked your trunk, left it open just a bit, then put your keys back in your pocket and came out here. You take too long to shop, Heero. I've been here for at least two hours!"
Heero glared. "I was trying to find Christmas presents. As you can see, I finally found them, and am now ready to put them in my trunk. However, you're there. So, get out!"
Zechs arched an eyebrow. "You had all but one of those bags when I *first* took charge of your keys."
Heero flushed just enough to be visably pink. "I've very hard to find gifts for Trowa."
Zechs smiled. "What did you get for him."
Heero growled. "A stuffed lion and a gift certificate to Artillery Haven."
"What made you get him *those*?" Zechs' expression was one of distaste. "He likes coffee, you know. That's all he ever drank when he infiltrated OZ."
"How do you know?"
"It's on his file. He also ate macaroni and cheese when it was served on Thursday, but never on Wednesday or Friday."
Heero smiled. "I can answer that, though. There were peas every Wednesday and Friday."
"He likes peas?"
"Better than OZ macaroni and cheese. All OZ soldiers were required to take at least one side dish. Trowa is allergic to corn, and at least one variant was served every day. Therefore, he always chose the most appealing of the remaining side dishes. He didn't mind the peas. However, on Thursday, the only options were cornbread, creamed corn, and macaroni and cheese."
Zechs shook his head. "And you didn't know he had coffee every day?"
Heero's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why did you get me talking about Trowa? You're supposed to be telling me what you're doing here."
His face serious, Zechs burrowed deeper into the trunk of Heero's car, covering his hair with the towel that Heero always had with him. "I need to hide for a while, Heero."
"Well, gee, Zechs. You certainly seem to be doing a good job of it all by yourself. Aren't you dead?"
Zechs grinned. "That's the nice thing about space being so big. Bodies are hard to find if they don't want to be found."
Heero nodded. "I suppose that's true enough. How long do you need to hide out for?"
"Probably a year or two, just until all of those hooligans here on Earth forget that I sort of tried to blow them up."
Grunting, Heero grabbed onto Zechs' sleeve and made him sit up. "Get up and in the front seat. If you're going to my house, I will not be seen dragging you *out* of my trunk and *into* my house." He paused. "It's a nice neighborhood."
Zechs sighed deeply, but relinquished his spot in the trunk to the packages and parcels that Heero still carried. As soon as Zechs moved, Heero was arranging gifts. Zechs looked into the trunk. "Gift wrap service? You didn't even do it yourself?"
Heero raised his chin and attempted to look down at Zechs, despite the fact that he was shorter that the other man by about a foot. "There is a self-service wrapping center, you know. As though anyone could wrap better than me! They bend corners."
Zechs backed off. "Well, fine. And, when you're ready, could you come unlock the door, please?" He suddenly had a faceful of keys as Heero threw them at him.
"You can open the door yourself." Heero finished arranging the gifts in his trunk, closed it gently, then got into the car. Zechs had, thankfully, unlocked his door and put the keys in the ignition for him. "When did you become so--"
"Gorgeous?"
"No. Silly."
Zechs glowered. "I've always been silly. It just doesn't do to be silly in front of people whom you're expected to lead to victory. Surely you know that."
Heero had been backing out of his parking spot during Zechs' comments. Now, he pulled out of the parking garage, checked that his lights and windshield wipers were on and functioning properly and headed home.
Zechs sang along to the Christmas carols playing on the radio, often getting the lyrics wrong. Heero found it an amusing touch and made no mention of it. The drive from the mall to Heero's house was not a long one; only about ten minutes.
When they arrived, Heero parked in his garage, sent Zechs to unlock the door into the house and to carry in packages for him, and then went to check the mail and grab the newspaper from the front lawn. Since he raced through the rain, it only took a few moments, and then they were in the kitchen and Heero was putting the teakettle on the stove for water for hot chocolate. "Trowa is coming over later on. I don't know how well he'll take to having you here. I don't think he hates you, but I just can't guarantee anything."
"Have him stay, too. After all," here, Zechs pointed one finger into the air and grinned, "I don't have any other clothes with me and all of your clothes would be *way* too small! If I put on a pair of your shorts, they would simply be indecent. You understand, of course." Heero bit his bottom lip and looked down somewhat; lost in thought. The teakettle began to whistle, and Heero paid it no attention. "Heero... the kettle."
"Oh, hmm?" Suddenly, Heero's eyes widened quickly. "The kettle!" He turned quickly and then set about making two perfectly delicious cups of hot chocolate. He got out a can of whipped cream, a small bag of marshmallows, and a few small candy canes and placed them on the counter between himself and Zechs. "Maybe I will ask Trowa to stay. But," he glared at Zechs again, "make sure you stay out of the way until I get a chance to tell him about you."
Zechs nodded, then unwrapped a candy cane. He stuck it, first, in his hot chocolate, then in his mouth. Then, he smiled and radiated joy. For the first time, Heero saw Zechs as an actual human being instead of some inhuman extremist who catapulted between causes.
That evening, at about eight o'clock, Zechs had been banished to Heero's computer room and Heero was busily slapping on some aftershave as Trowa rang the doorbell. Heero tripped over the bottom step of the stairs on his way down. He landed, then quickly stood and threw open the door. "Trowa!"
Trowa looked concerned. "Heero, you're bleeding again. Come on, let me clean that ip for you." He whipped a handkerchief out of his pocket and gently placed it on Heero's chin and applied light pressure. "You..." He grinned, then shook his head. "My Heero."
Heero reached up and gently ran his fingertips along Trowa's wrist. "You take such good care of me," he murmurred. "Come sit with me for a while?" Trowa nodded and they walked carefully to the kitchen where Trowa applied a bandage to Heero's chin. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. I wouldn't do this for just anyone, you know."
Heero's expression relaxed further into contentment. "I know. And I appreciate the fact that you do this."
Trowa scooted his stool closer to Heero's and laid his hand on Heero's hand. "You know, there's something I've been meaning to share with you."
"What's that?" Heero looked up, and suddenly flushed as he saw Trowa slowly advancing toward him, his own cheeks flushed, his eyes closed, and his lips pursed. Just as Trowa's lips touched his own and he began to respond, Zechs shouted out, "Woohoo!" and could be heard dancing around.
Trowa had pulled away and knocked his stool over in the process. He was looking around frenetically, trying to find the source of the noise. "Heero, what the hell was that?"
Heero smiled sheepishly. "You might want to sit back down for this." Trowa did so. "I have a bit of something to tell you. Um... I have a houseguest. And, he might be here for a while, and while he's here, it you want to stay as well, that should be fine."
"Who is your houseguest?"
Heero cleared his throat and said loudly, "You can come out now."
Zechs opened the door to the computer room and sashayed out. "Hello, Trowa. Had any good coffee lately?"
Trowa raised an eyebrow. "I'll be back to your house in just a few minutes. Let me run home and grab some stuff. I'm definitely staying." Just as he was about to close the door behind him, he shouted out, "Don't let him touch you anywhere that you might have clothes on. Even gloves are clothes!"
Heero quirked an eyebrow. "What, exactly, made him say that?" He turned and glared at Zechs. "Hmm?"
Zechs put on an air of indifference and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't know. Perhaps it was because of the time he thought I was coming on to him, but I was merely inquiring about how he liked his coffee. He simply looked too far into the meanings of cream and sugar. That's all." He glanced hesitantly at Heero. "Really! You believe me, don't you?"
Smiling, Heero took an awkward step backward. "Of course I believe you, Zechs. Who wouldn't?"
Zehc frownwed. "I knew you wouldn't believe me."
Eight minutes or so later, Trowa arrived again. He had a hastily packed duffel bag and a handgun, still in the holster, trailing from his right hand. "Did he try anything?" he asked as Heero opened the door.
Heero shook his head. "How did you get here so fast? You fouse is five minutes away. You were only gone for eight minutes."
Trowa grinned, and took a few deep breaths. "Most of the five minutes are traffic lights and one way streets. It's only a three-minute run!"
Heero raised his eyebrows. "How fast can you run?"
"I don't know. But, the dogs that tried to chase me fell *way* behind!"
Grinning, Heero took a few steps forward and linked one of his arms with the arm of Trowa's that held the gun and holster. "I'm making Zech sleep on the couch. You can have the guest bedroom. How does that sound?"
Trowa glared at Zechs. "I don't trust him. Can I sleep in your room?"
Heero flushed and looked at where his hand grasped Trowa's arm. "Okay," he said in a soft voice.
Zechs wiggled his eyebrows. "That works for me! It means I get a bedroom *all* to myself. Oh, Trowa... I hope you brought pajamas for me, too. As I told Heero earlier, I'd look positively indecent wearing any of his clothing. You could probably wear his, and I'll wear yours, sand they'll be a bit skimpy, especially since you're a bit thicker around the waist than I am..."
Trowa's nose twitched and his nostrils flared and his lip curled. "I am not *thick* around the waist at all. I have these things called *muscles*; something which you know nothing about from the way I could snap your back like a toothpick. *Don't* make me do it. Heero had enough of his own blood on this carpet. He doesn't need any of yours. Besides that, who knows where you're been? The OZ showers were always too friendly for my liking."
Heero hit Trowa lightly on the back of his head. "You can borrow a pair of my sweatpants. I'll go doa bit of shopping for him tomorrow."
"You shouldn't have to spend money on someone like him."
"Why not? A lot of my money came out of his OW expense account."
Zechs perked up. "Hey! No wonder I was always over my limit for the month."
Heero smiled. "It was war. I needed something funt o do in my spare time."
Pouting, Zechs leaned against a wall. "Oh, I suppose it's okay. But, remember, I like Calvin Klein. And, boxers, not briefs. I'll write out a size chart for you and give you a list of mu preferred brands. It'll be on the table in the morning.
Heero nodded. "We'll see what we can do." He turned to Trowa. "Did you want to come with me?"
Trowa smiled. "Sure. It's a date."
Heero blushed just a bit. "Okay."
Zechs cleared his throat. "If you're quite finished, I think I'll go to my room."
Trowa nodded. "You do that, Zechs."
This was the kind of life that Heero Yuy, Trowa Barton and Zechs Merquise lived for most of the year between that Christmas and the next Eve War. That was a relatively good year. Zech learned to cook, clean, and do somewhat like he was told. Heero learned how to maximize his shopping time and how to put out fires (appropriate for one around when Zechs was learning to cook). Trowa bought a promise ring and gave it to Heero who blushed and pulled Trowa into his room for the rest of the day. When they left the room the next morning, Zechs cheered and had omelettes waiting for them.
When the next Eve War came, they were quite unprepared and shortly parted, with Zechs revealing himself to the rest of the world as still being alive. However, when it was really and truly all over? Trowa moved in with Heero, Zechs moved next door, and they lived happily ever after, except for that little spat when Heero bought Zechs a shirt which wasn't on the approved list. About an hour later, Zechs decided he liked the shirt after all.
And that was that.
Owari. ^__~