Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Attempted Bystanding ❯ 01 ( Chapter 2 )

One

"Did you ask them to let you borrow this?" Matty whispered to Heero, looking around the apartment curiously. "Are they moving out?"

The place was very barren.

"Well," Heero muttered, closing the door behind himself. "Me'n the guys have been thinking...none of us really mind sharing that big room, but it's not as convenient for you to come. Getting motels all the time is expensive and you have your little sister around," he shrugged, taking Matty's jacket and hanging it on the coat rack by the door.

"Thanks...so what?"

"So...when Reagan and his wife decided to move out and wanted to sell the place...we looked into our credit rating." He grinned at the guy.

Matty tilted his head, blinking at that.

"Here in the next month or two we're going to put a door between here and there," he indicated a hall that led from the foyer to the five bedrooms. "That way we don't have to go out of the apartment to go between them...and then we'll just own this end of the building." He hung his own coat up and looked the place over. "We haven't really gotten much stuff yet...but we did get some," he led the guy into the living room area, where they'd set up a nice table with candles and things.

Matty stopped to look that all over, then turned to smile at Heero.

"Happy Valentine's Day," Heero muttered, lifting Matty's chin with a finger for a kiss.

"You did this for me, didn't you?" Matty muttered, studying Heero's eyes.

"I made you a nice dinner?" Heero asked lightly, debating if he wanted to take the kiss still being offered. "Yes. I did."

Matty sniggered and leaned up to kiss him again.

The food was going to get cold...Heero took the two steps down into the sunken living room, but Matty didn't move to follow, and him going down the steps made him easier to reach. The younger male leaned forward more until Heero took his weight, wrapping his legs around Heero's waist.

"Mm..." Heero pulled away from the kiss, catching his breath. "We're supposed to eat first..."

"But I'm having fun," Matty protested, nipping at his ear. "When you're down there I can just reach."

Heero sniggered, untangling himself.

"Aww," Matty muttered...and bit his throat before he could move away.

Heero hissed slightly, catching his waist, then jerked away quickly. "Stop already..."

Matty giggled, licking his lips. "I still think it's funny that you like to be bitten."

"Like you don't," Heero retorted, moving back out of reach. "Come on...I made us food."

"You cooked?" Matty demanded, actually thinking about that.

"I did," Heero agreed, smiling more and leading the nineteen year old to the little table. He held the chair so the guy could sit and kissed him briefly again before moving out of reach. When they were alone, Matty was more than willing to make the first, and in fact, all the moves. Heero had to keep focused on what he had to do or they'd end up screwing all night.

He really liked how brazen Matty actually was. Heero'd gathered that as a one-night stand, Matty was going for the gold...and now that Heero'd proven himself, he was trusted.

There was the option that it was just how the guy was, but if Heero even seemed to be about to mention it to his friends, the teen got embarrassed and shy.

Heero wasn't really that worried about it, he just knew that he had to keep to his point and they'd work around to it. He carried the food back to the table and served the other before sitting down and studying Matty with interest.

"Why are you doing all this?" Matty asked, smiling slightly at him.

"I thought it would be nice," Heero returned, hitting the power button on the remote for the stereo. He'd had the volume adjusted already, and had made the mix of music himself.

Matty smiled at that. "This is just all romantic and sweet."

"Yeah, it is," Heero agreed, leaning against the table with his elbow and his hand on the side of his head. "You don't like it?"

"I didn't say that," Matty muttered, looking around the dimly lit room. "We usually just..."

"I really like the sex," Heero noted. "I really like how much sex...but that's not all you are and you know it." They'd had this conversation before. It had taken Heero a long time to even get the guy to start talking about his friends or family. He was always interested in Heero's friends and job and such things, but he hadn't really volunteered the information.

"Can't we have the sex, then the sweet?" Matty protested, grinning slightly.

"Yeah...the thought crossed my mind...but look, food," he indicated the plates.

Matty flashed him a true smile, then picked up his fork.

- -

"Shh," Wufei muttered, gesturing at Quatre. "I can't tell if they managed to eat or not..."

"Wufei!" Quatre protested, darting across the room to pull the Chinese man off his bed. They'd done the measurements and found that Quatre's bed lined up with the end of the hall on the far side of the wall.

Wufei started laughing wickedly, stretching out on the dark brown carpet. "I just heard music, don't be such a prude."

"You're so perverted," Quatre retorted, dropping to sit. "What do you think Heero'd say if he found out you were trying to eavesdrop on them?"

"I think he'd ask me why I was only trying," Wufei retorted. "And I was actually doing a pretty good job of it before you came in and threw me."

Quatre grinned at him, then glowered again.

Wufei sniggered, looking toward the closet a moment before sitting up again to grin. "I wasn't really listening."

Quatre tilted his head.

"Your alarm was going off," Wufei indicated the thing. "Then you came in."

The blond gave him a severely level look.

Wufei grinned, pushing up to his feet. "You really think Matty'll like that we got rooms?"

"I think he'll end up moving in now," Quatre returned, pushing himself up from the bed and heading toward the entrance to the main room. "He sleeps here most of the time anyway. We can figure a nice round amount for him to pay toward mortgage'n bills so he doesn't think we're just letting him live here...and then Duo and Heero can keep doing what they're doing."

"Duo?" Wufei echoed blankly.

"I'm cooking," Quatre informed Wufei. "I figured you could use a night off...and yeah. Hadn't you realized? Duo buys him anything he even looks interested in. Heero doesn't care, though I think Matt might get up in arms about it soon."

"I'd imagine," Wufei noted, blinking a few times. "I hadn't realized that...what's Duo's game?"

"I honestly don't think he has one," Quatre returned, moving around into the kitchen. "I honestly think it's just his form of affection. He buys us crap, if you think about it. He doesn't usually get the chance to because we buy what we want ourselves, but if he sees something, he grabs it. Matt makes a lot less money than we do."

"But we come with skills that would make our résumés a bit excessive," Wufei noted, smirking. "Saviors of the planet and colonies, war heroes, hacking skills of the gods..."

Quatre gave him an amused look as he pulled some steaks out of the fridge.

"We could infiltrate any enemy," Wufei noted happily, slinking down to barely look over the top of the counter at Quatre, "in the dead of night...sneak into Bernard Global..."

Quatre guffawed happily at that. Bernard Global was the only competition on earth that Winner Incorporated had to worry about.

"We could hack in," Wufei noted, bouncing up to sit on the end stool, "and put all their prices at sudden-death clearance and wipe them out!"

That made the blond laugh even more.

Wufei shifted himself to the next stool in. "You want me to? I haven't hacked in forever, I'm getting rusty...they might realize it'd been a hacker."

"Uh, no," Quatre denied happily. "I think its okay."

Wufei grinned at that, then looked across the apartment as his heart ached again; his distractions were working less and less now.

They'd gone to the memorial for A0206 after rescuing Matt from the revolutionists. After six years of avoidance, they'd finally been in position to go to the memorial. Wufei shook his head at that, running his hands over his eyes.

"Come on, don't think about it," Quatre suggested quietly. "You went, you saw...we came home."

"I know," Wufei muttered, covering his eyes. "I know...I'm trying..."

"It might help you to call them," Quatre suggested quietly.

The trip had been emotionally tearing for Wufei. Even though the colonists had all agreed to the sacrifice, he still saw it as his own fault. Actually, there had been many people from the colony that hadn't been on the colony when it exploded...who'd committed suicide. There had been a list of those...and then the list of survivors.

There had been a fair few of Wufei's friends on that list, other boys he'd gone to school with. They'd gone to another colony to finish their education as the wars started, so they'd lost their family and friends...and while a few of them had committed suicide...many of them had lived, were still living.

There was some reassurance in the knowledge that the people in charge of the memorial didn't blame Wufei. The history of the colony, the attempts of the Alliance to kill it and Wufei's wife's death had been noted. That information had gone into Wufei going to earth, and the subsequent decision of the colony to the man to agree that if they were ever in a position that compromised the success...

Something inside of Wufei had been broken when that colony self-destructed. He'd carried around that open wound, and it was only when he went to the memorial and saw the truth laid out with honor that he was willing to admit it to himself.

He still saw it as his fault, though.

He'd apologized, or tried to, to Matt's father and uncle. He'd been drinking at the time and breaking down. The men had both promptly made it very clear that they in no way held him responsible for the tragedy. It hadn't been him, it had been Wufei's enemies, all of their enemies. The two men had quietly excused themselves when Duo'd moved in to comfort the Chinese man while Matty watched Wufei in something like amazement from Heero's arms.

Unfortunately, the whole ordeal had broken down Wufei's walls.

His friends knew very well that the reason that Wufei would pick and tease was to keep himself from thinking too much. It had been painfully obvious when he'd started, and then it had just worked into his personality as they got older.

They were all very aware that he hadn't been able to meditate since their return, and even his forms were getting choppy enough that Heero would stop him and encourage him to mirror.

"I really need to go talk to Mike, don't I?" Wufei muttered, staring at the countertop. Mike was his psychiatrist.

"If you think you need to, then yes," Quatre agreed. "I think its grief and you'll be okay after a while."

Wufei looked up to him, blinking.

Quatre smiled very slightly, then went back to poking the steaks he'd pulled out with the forks he'd pulled out. He knew Wufei would go to the psychologist in the end, but Wufei had been asking if Quatre thought he was strong enough on his own to deal with the issues. They both knew it, and Wufei may not have realized that Quatre would read it the way he had, but it was just one of the little things they'd do for each other. It was like Wufei noting with aplomb something dirty so Quatre could deal with his embarrassment quickly without being ashamed.

It was how they worked, tit for tat, this for that, a little for a lot.

Wufei sighed slightly and stood up. "I'm gonna go try to meditate again before the guys get back."

"All right," Quatre returned, watching him start away. "Just stop trying to hear if Heero and Matty are fucking."

Wufei turned a very bright and wicked smile onto Quatre, then disappeared into the room part of the apartment.

- -

"So you're coming to visit us?" Duo demanded happily as he bounced through the entrance of their apartment with a wave to the doorman. "Seriously?"

"Seriously," Noin agreed. "Milliardo decided to fall back on his annoying tendency of disappearing on me without forewarning me, so I'm pissed at him. I'm not taking the asshole back this time..."

"You always say that," Duo retorted as he started up the stairs. He didn't really like the elevator. "You always do in the end, so don't go chasing the bravado or you'll be all embarrassed to talk to me again."

Noin laughed at that. "Okay, fine, I will take him back, but I'm not going to wait around like some little lost puppy. I wanna get laid."

Duo smirked. "You're comin' to the right place for that."

She guffawed happily at him. "Why the hell do you think I chose you guys instead of running off with Sally?"

Duo loosened his collar with a smirk. "Why, Lucretzia, I never knew..."

She laughed wickedly at that.

"Okay...okay," Duo pulled his mind forcefully from the gutter. "When does your flight come in?"

"Three tomorrow," she returned. "Don't worry, you'll know all about it because I'm going to be texting you the entire flight. You're taking me out for Valentine's, you know."

"Today is Valentine's," Duo protested.

"You're...taking me out for Valentine's," she repeated.

He snorted. "I don't have a problem with that as long as you realize you'll be a day late. Shit, time doesn't run differently in the colonies, Lu. You know that, right?"

"Oh haha," she retorted. "I just had a really bad day and you're reminding me that it's not over yet...hope you feel good about yourself."

"So what?" Duo asked blankly. "When did Princey leave?"

She went quiet in a way that suggested to Duo she was fighting tears. "Last night."

"And just...you're sure he wasn't grabbed?" Duo muttered. "With all the turmoil and the 27 shit...I mean, he is a prince."

"I thought of that," she returned. "I synched our phones up and it had like...three flights. He didn't say anything to me..."

"Noin, stay with me," Duo suggested quickly as he moved up the final set of stairs to the top floor. "Are you sure he has his phone?"

"Yes," she muttered, sniffling somewhat. "It's on him...and the health stats all read normal."

"If someone took his phone...can you find out where he is?"

"He hasn't been kidnapped, Duo," she returned, still sounding like she'd start crying.

"Even so," Duo returned, "with all the crap going on up there...I'll check out his status."

"Fine, whatever," she muttered. He figured she was wiping at her eyes. "I'm still coming tomorrow."

"That's fine," Duo reassured her. "We're even buying the apartment next to ours," he added as he opened the door to their place. "You'll, like, have a room and stuff."

She laughed a little at that.

"And as for getting laid, I know four guys who're free right on arrival."

She started giggling.

"Huh?" Quatre asked from where he was standing at the stove.

"Noin is coming tomorrow and wants to get laid," Duo explained. "I guess Princey left again without any notice."

"You make sure he wasn't kidnapped?" Quatre demanded, pulling the fridge open.

"On my way to do it, boss-man," Duo returned, heading for the room.

"Duo," Quatre muttered.

Duo turned to look at him.

"The carpet, come on," Quatre gestured at his boots.

"What's he on about?" Noin asked blankly.

"We got carpet installed while we were gone," Duo explained, heading back to the shoe-area. "At least in the room...and I'm covered in sawdust and shit...shit," he looked himself over.

"So...you go shower," she suggested, "and I'll complain to Quatre a while...or Wufei. Wufei's there, isn't he?"

"Is Fei here?" Duo asked blankly, listening intently.

"He's meditating," Quatre returned, hoping that Duo's entrance hadn't interrupted that.

"Oh, shit," Duo muttered, then focused on his phone. "Okay, so I'm gonna hop in the shower...and Quatre will call you in a minute or two, right, Quatre?"

"Immediately, my love!" Quatre said loudly enough to be picked up.

Noin started giggling.

Duo winked at him. "So right...shower. Later," he made a kissy noise into his phone as the woman laughed more, then hung up. "She's very not-happy about Princey disappearing on her," he noted. "I'll run the scans and shit after my shower to make sure he wasn't grabbed—she's pretty sure he hasn't been, but after our stunt with the phone, if the 27-idiots grabbed him they'd figure out how to work it. If it turns out he is just a bastard, we can show the lady a good time."

Quatre nodded, pulling his phone out.

Duo toed his shoes off and shot them with the spray to neutralize odor, then headed toward the bathroom.

He wasn't intending to take long—he was nervous enough without adding in the damsel distressed by the missing prince.

Bah...at least the day was almost over, right? Right.

- -

"So you want me to what?" Trowa muttered as he moved toward his car.

"I want you to come have coffee with me," the guy muttered, sliding in front of him so he couldn't unlock the door. "Come on, Rigel, you never give me the time of day. What's one cup of coffee in the grand scheme of things?"

"Okay," Trowa muttered, shifting back where he stood and considering his options. "You're aware that I'm straight, right?"

Timothy's expression turned confused.

"I can't tell if you're hitting on me or trying to be my friend," Trowa noted, resting his weight against his right arm, and that against the car. He had the keys in his hand as he leaned forward so he was very close to Timothy's face. "Are you hitting on me?"

"No!" Timothy protested, sliding away from him as his cheeks flared.

Trowa sniggered, sliding the key into the lock. The battery in his fob had died somewhere between saving Matty and getting to work after their "vacation".

Timothy hesitated. "Un...unless...but...no," he shook his head. "I just...you don't ever do anything with anyone in the office," he gestured back at the building they worked in.

Trowa sighed, tossing his bag and jacket across the car into the passenger seat. "I'm kind of busy at home," he noted. "Right now's not a great time for me to be running around. Our vacation brought some shit up, and my friends and I are trying to hold the group together."

That was a roundabout way of saying they were all trying to help Wufei deal with his issues, but Timothy didn't need to know that.

"If I said I was hitting on you," Timothy demanded, straightening some, "would you come to coffee with me then?"

"You really want me to go have coffee with you, don't you?" Trowa demanded in return, considering the man a long moment. "So...you setting me up?"

"What?" Timothy asked blankly.

"You know the drill," Trowa returned, swinging one leg into the car so he could lean his back against it. "Big wolves hop out of the woods and steal something like a daughter and tie her up and put her in their goody basket, tell you if you don't want'em to take her to the big farm in the sky, then you do what they want. You get it?"

Timothy gave him a look that stated very clearly he thought Trowa was nuts.

Trowa grinned at that and shook his head. "Too bad, I'd have gone with you if you said that," he slid down into his seat. "Well, I need to get going."

"You're a fucking asshole," Timothy snapped at him. "Just a paranoid bastard with far too much time alone."

"I'm never alone, I'd love to be alone," Trowa retorted. "I'm not, though. I get the ride to and from work, and sometimes the house, rarely...or if I go run shopping."

"With your imaginary roommates?" Timothy retorted.

Trowa met his eyes in disbelief a long moment, then smirked at him. "You serious?"

"When have they ever come here?" Timothy returned. "When do they text you? When do you talk to anyone at all? It's okay," he added. "I can see how...but..."

"You think I have imaginary friends?" Trowa demanded, resting back in his seat. That was funny—that made Timothy interesting. He considered the man's face a long moment, then gestured at him. "Get in."

"Huh?" Timothy asked blankly.

"Get in," Trowa repeated, pulling his other leg in and tossing his bag and jacket to the back seat. He pulled his door closed as Timothy hesitantly moved around the car to the passenger side.

Oh, the lock.

Trowa unlocked the car, then pulled his seat-belt down as his co-worker climbed into the car with him.

"We can go hang out at my place for your blasted coffee," Trowa noted, starting the engine.

"Is this a manual?" Timothy demanded, staring at the gearshift.

"Yes," Trowa returned, hitting reverse.

"They still make these?" Timothy demanded, looking around to his feet. He watched him switch gears as they pulled out of the parking lot, then looked around the car again.

"It wasn't cheap," Trowa noted, "but I prefer this to a damn automatic. Make me think of the mobile dolls," he shook his head.

"You were like...twelve in the wars," the guy retorted.

"I was fifteen when they started and sixteen when they stopped," Trowa retorted. He glanced sidelong at the man. "Unlike you, I knew what was going on."

The man guffawed at that. "Politics and bloody pissing contests." He shook his head as he looked out the windows. "A bunch of stupid people with big weapons and no regard for human life."

"The Gundams?" Trowa asked, speeding up to get through a yellow light.

"Bunch of teenagers on steroids," the man retorted. "Well-trained dogs."

"Man," Trowa muttered, not quite managing to find offense in his words. "You're a bundle of fucking joy. Accuse me of having imaginary friends, then without even bothering to ask what side I was on, you just spout hollow slogans that were probably drilled into your head by parents too scared to try to take sides."

The man turned in his seat to stare at Trowa's face.

"Did you know that I don't know who my parents are?" Trowa asked curiously.

"Orphan?" the man asked, blinking. "That explains it..."

"My imaginary friends?" Trowa asked, grinning wickedly at that notion. After he told them, it'd be something that could come up all the time.

"No, your attitude," the man retorted.

"My attitude?" Trowa asked sweetly. "You were begging me to go out with you, and now that I'm taking you to my place, you're pissy? Shit, you want a proper courtship you gotta say no sometimes."

Timothy choked on that, though it was the sort of choking that suggested an unexpected laugh.

Trowa flashed him a grin.

"The...the light!" Timothy squawked gesturing wildly at the windshield.

Trowa knew he was basically running the damn thing and didn't particularly care. He had actually run the things before, and never seemed to get a ticket for it. He wasn't sure if the cops recognized him, or if they didn't care...it was just how it worked. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't going to go through a light that was dangerous.

"You're insane!" Timothy snapped, glaring up at his face.

"Why else would I have imaginary friends?" Trowa smirked at him, then patted his knee. "Calm down, I'm not stupid. It was just a couple lights, not worth working yourself up over."

"What if a car had been coming!?" the man demanded.

"I'd have stopped," Trowa returned, looking to him seriously. "That's what you're really supposed to do at red lights."

The guy looked like he was seriously doubting his idea of leaving with Trowa.

Trowa couldn't really blame him. If he really thought Trowa had imaginary friends, then getting into the car alone with him was probably stupid. He also hadn't told anyone what he was doing.

Trowa was vaguely tempted leave town and play out the psycho-role...but his pants weren't comfortable and he really wanted his runners on. Playing with a co-worker would have its definite amusements, but in the long-run it would only end up putting him in jail or something stupid like that.

"Look," Trowa added, slowing to a stop at another light as a truck moved down the road at them. "See? Stopped," he gestured out the windows.

The guy settled back. "Running red lights is a good way to get a ticket."

"Yeah, I suppose," Trowa agreed, looking around. He was just going to go, but the light turned green in time to keep him from doing the illegal thing he was hoping for. "How about you? You got any imaginary friends?"

"I did as a kid," the guy returned, sounding almost tired. "Listen...it's the sort of thing that can happen when you're alone too much..."

"You're so helpful," Trowa noted in amusement as he pulled onto the road leading to their complex. "You know I live here, huh?" he pointed at the apartment building, looking up the height of it to their apartment. The lights were on, and everyone else should already be home. "Shit," he added, grinning slightly, "its Valentine's Day...and I don't have you any chocolate."

The guy frowned at him. "You have to have a pass to park here," he muttered.

"Yeah," Trowa agreed, pulling the thing down from his visor and flicking it across the scanner. The gate instantly opened, just like it was supposed to do when residents scanned their cards.

"You really live here?" the guy asked, sounding slightly bemused.

"Yeah," Trowa agreed, pulling into the pent-lot.

"You can park in here?" the man asked blankly.

"I park here every night," Trowa agreed.

He hadn't realized the man hadn't known anything about him. He thought he'd talked to most of them enough that they realized he wasn't poor.

Maybe they all thought he was lying.

That was kind of depressing.

"This is our apartment," he noted, gesturing up the wall and their line of cars. All the cars were present, even Matty's little beater piece of junk.

"Is that supposed to be there?" Timothy asked blankly as they started for the breezeway.

"That's my friend's boyfriend's car," Trowa explained, patting the thing. "Don't sneeze or it might collapse."

The guy grinned at that.

"You don't have anyone, huh?" Trowa asked. "I mean in the...significant other...term, not friends."

"I've been single far too long," the man returned, rolling his eyes. "For some reason the only women who'll give me the time of day are harpies."

"But sexy?" Trowa asked, hoping for the best there.

The guy snorted and shrugged. "I suppose they could be."

Trowa laughed at that. "I almost had a relationship last summer, but it bottomed out. All I can manage is to get laid," he shook his head in mock-sadness. "Horrible plight."

The man snorted, though it was amused.

"Hey, Sean," he greeted the doorman as he moved quickly forward and opened the door for them. "Not working too late, are you?"

"I get off here in about five seconds," the man returned, grinning happily at him. "After I let this door close on some pain in the ass clients."

Trowa laughed at that and flipped him off, then winked. "Happy Valentine's Day, don't forget to get your girl a rose or something," he flicked a bill back at the man.

"On you, of course," the guy noted in amusement.

Trowa grinned at that and slid into the waiting elevator.

"You tipped him?" Timothy asked blankly.

"It's Valentine's Day and he has a girlfriend, he's getting off work, and...I like him," Trowa shrugged, passing his pass-card under the reader.

Timothy stared at that, then looked at the buttons as the machine started moving.

"What?"

"Is that...do you live in the penthouses?"

"There are four up there," Trowa shrugged. "We own the one we live in, and we're buying the one next to it."

The man stared at his face in disbelief.

"Oh, shit," he added, pulling his phone out and pulling up a multi-text. He almost forgot to take Heero and Matty off the list, he doubted they'd care if he brought someone home. Heero had the second apartment to himself for the night.

‘Hey, I'm here and bringing a friend up. No nudity required, he's a male.'

"What?" Timothy asked, blinking at him.

"I was telling everyone you're coming up," he explained.

The guy gave him a wary look.

"What?" Trowa demanded. "Just because I keep my work life and my home life separate and am an asshole doesn't mean I make people up in my head.

‘Eh?' Duo asked. ‘You brought a guy home? But only me'n Heero do that.'

Trowa sniggered.

‘Not some vegetarian...or vegan, is he?' Quatre demanded.

‘If I like him, can I keep him?' Wufei asked happily.

Trowa grinned more.

"What?"

"Uh...my friends are special," Trowa returned. "Here we go." The doors slid open and they moved out of it into the hall.

Trowa had never really thought about how secular the area of the building was until his phone popped up a warning that Heero's sensors had caught an unfamiliar. They hadn't been able to put the sensors out before, since the neighbors came and went as they pleased, but now that the end of the building was theirs, it was something else entirely.

"That's the new place," Trowa noted, gesturing to the second door. "My friend and his boyfriend are using it tonight, though."

"His boyfriend?" Timothy asked blankly.

"Yeah, he's bi," Trowa shrugged and pushed the apartment door open.

"Oh...that's why you...asked..." his voice was very weak as he took in the main living area.

"Hey, guys," Trowa muttered to Quatre, who was sitting on their couch. It was almost like Trowa had put new eyes on and was looking at the place. The carpet under the living room area was a throw that was probably worth the same as a trip to Japan. The couch itself was probably taken from one of the Winner mansions, considering how overstuffed it was.

"Hey," Duo muttered, popping over the railing to the gym. "Who's your friend?"

Timothy looked up at him, then followed the railing over to the stairs that went up the far wall.

"That's the gym," Trowa explained. "You're not all sweaty are you?" he added.

"You like me sweaty," Duo retorted, disappearing again.

"You wish," Trowa retorted, rolling his eyes to Timothy. "Guys, this is my co-worker, Timothy," he draped a companionable arm around the guy. "He's been begging me since we got back to go with him to coffee—so I just had him come here. This is Jason, he's Warrick," he gestured upstairs. "Where's Ian?"

"I'm back here," Wufei called from the laundry room. "I need like, a pair of pants more, go change."

Timothy turned to blink at him.

"Fine," Trowa muttered, sliding his shoes off at the door. "Feel free to have a seat," Trowa added, gesturing to the couch. "I'll only be a minute," he grinned and started for the room.

"You live here?" Timothy hissed, chasing after him.

"Yeah," Trowa returned in amusement as the guy looked the huge screen over that divided the bedroom from the main room.

Quatre cast a smirk at Wufei, who grinned back.

"Ooh, shoes," Trowa muttered, indicating the man's feet. "The carpet is new."

"Oh, uh..." Timothy slid them off and kicked them to the side.

Trowa found that rather amusing as he headed into the room. "That's my bed," he added, indicating the thing. "And this is my closet," he moved to the end section. Heero had built the closet before they'd all moved down from space, and aside from being taller than head height with matting on the top for meditation, it had five separate sections inside. They each had their own walk in closet.

"Whoa," the guy muttered blankly, looking up and down the thing, then around at the beds.

"We're all used to sleeping in barracks," Trowa noted, dropping his shirt outside the door and starting on his slacks. "So this sleeping arrangement doesn't give us an issue—the only problem is that Max got a boyfriend who he seems to have sex with daily," he shook his head as he pulled out a pair of jeans. "I don't actually pry, though. I get along with the kid well enough, but he's been sleeping in here," he gestured at Heero's bed. "They whisper at each other enough that we all decided the second apartment was a good investment."

Timothy was blinking around in confusion.

"So yeah," Trowa noted, pulling the jeans on and pulling his under-shirt off. "That's me," he noted.

Timothy had turned back to him...and was staring at his abs.

"What?" Trowa asked, raising an eyebrow. "Please, lord in heaven...tell me you're not gay."

Quatre started cracking up from the living room.

"You're so smooth," Duo noted from where he'd been working out on the upper floor. "Did we ever tell you that?"

"You changed, idiot?" Wufei demanded, moving into the room.

"Oh, shut-up," Trowa retorted, kicking his slacks at Wufei. The Chinese man caught them effortlessly, then turned and slid out the door again.

"Are those real?" Timothy demanded...and pressed his hand against Trowa's abdomen.

"Hey," Trowa muttered, knocking his it away. "That's not something I let people do."

"What?" Quatre asked.

"Did he just grope you?" Duo demanded from above.

Timothy's cheeks flared as he looked around toward the gym, then realized that it was completely open.

"He freaked out about my abs," Trowa noted, rolling his eyes as he turned get another shirt out. "Leave him alone, guys, he thought you were all imaginary."

Duo guffawed.

"You just had to tell them that, didn't you?" Timothy hissed at him.

"You just totally felt me up," Trowa returned, toeing off his socks and reaching into the closet for another pair. "Hey, Jase? Food done?"

"How did you know he was cooking?" Wufei demanded.

"He texted me at lunch," Trowa returned. "Said he was cooking and was there anything I didn't want."

"I texted everyone, even Max," Quatre noted in amusement. "He informed me that he didn't give a damn what we all ate, he was cooking for him and Matt."

"You called him Matt again," Wufei muttered.

"That'd be his name, Ian," Quatre returned in mock explanation. "See, his first name is Mattox."

"Wow! You're smart!" Trowa cried, hopping out of the bedroom to clap exuberantly.

"Fuck you," Quatre returned with a grin. "Food's in the microwave and on the stove. I'm glad you're running late. I don't want to feed you anymore."

Trowa laughed happily at that and turned toward the kitchen. "So, Tim...you care if I call you Tim?" he waited for the head-shake of negation. "Good...we got some real beer, some weird-ass imported beer...I think we have some vodka left—I'll ask Ian...and probably some rum about. You want some liquor?"

"How old even is he?" Quatre retorted.

"ID," Trowa noted, extending a hand.

"I'm twenty-five," Timothy retorted, offended by that. "How long did you intend to be here?"

"I dunno, an hour or two at least—I guess if you don't want to hang out I can just drive you back to your car now."

"Eh?" Wufei asked, moving from the laundry room and giving him an interested look. "There's a new bottle of vodka up there," he added, moving around to sit at the breakfast bar. "Get it out for me?"

Trowa wanted to deny that. They'd all decided that Wufei wasn't going to get his own drinks for a month or two. He hadn't initially had an issue with it, but a few days before he'd broken the edict and drank until he passed out while they were all sleeping.

Having a guest in the house suggested it wasn't time for that argument.

He pulled three glasses down and poured a shot in each, glancing at Timothy. "I really need to see your ID before I give you this."

"You're serious?" the man demanded, though his hand had strayed toward his back pocket.

"The cola, huh?" Wufei muttered, gesturing at the fridge with his head.

Trowa turned and pulled that out, filling two of the glasses, then passed Wufei one and sipped out of the second.

Timothy gave him an annoyed look and pulled out his wallet, looking at it to find the date of birth and raising it to show Trowa.

"All right...you want the cola...or...we got some almost-clear crap in there..."

"It's ginger ale," Quatre retorted from the living room. "And make me one if you've got the alcohol out."

"All right," Trowa returned pulling that out.

"I'll take some of that," Timothy muttered.

"I'm pourin', War," Trowa called. "You want some?"

"Why don't we talk about wanting some in the bathroom?" Duo returned.

"You're a sick old man, and I'm not interested," Trowa retorted.

"Dang...I'll take the alcohol, then...your friend never did answer you, you know."

Trowa snickered, grinning at Timothy as he passed him a drink.

"Is it any of your business?" Timothy demanded, glancing toward the ceiling.

"I'd like it to be," Duo purred in amusement. "Why don't you come admire the equipment?"

"Yours or the work-out shit?" Timothy retorted.

"Both, if you'd like," Duo sounded highly amused.

Trowa rolled his eyes, then turned to pull a couple plates down.

He didn't give a damn if the man were interested in Duo's offers, not as long as he remained un-groped...well, by a man anyway. Any chick could and that'd be fine.

Trowa grinned slightly, and went about gathering up the food.