Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Extreme Home Makeover - Gundam Edition ❯ Day One ( Chapter 3 )

Day One

 

“No no, please don't hang up!” Duo wailed. “This is serious!”

 

“If it's serious,” Trowa stated flatly, “what are you doing at Starbucks?”

 

“What? Oh, caller ID, huh? Think you're Mr. Fancy Pants, Mr. Clown-man with your caller ID…”

 

“I'm hanging up.”

 

“NO! Please, Trowa, this is really bad! We need to build Heero a new house, and he's only giving me a week to get it done.”

 

“You have a problem with your pronouns. The numbers don't match.”

 

“Huh?”

 

“We does not equal me.”

 

“I have no idea what you just said…are you stoned or something?”

 

Trowa sighed. He glanced over at the bed, where Quatre lounged in wanton heat. Covering the mouthpiece of the phone with his hand, he whispered, “I'll be right back as soon as I ditch 02.”

 

“Duo?” Quatre blurted. “Duo's on the phone? It's not about that cookout thing again, is it?”

 

“Duo?” Trowa asked into the phone. “Is this about the cookout?”

 

“That's what I'm trying to tell you! There's never gonna be a cookout!”

 

“Thank God, I was getting tired of finding excuses.”

 

“Excuse me??”

 

“Oh, not you,” Trowa backtracked neatly, “I was talking to Rashid.”

 

“…Right. Look, Trowa, I need your help. You and Quatre and Wufei, and anyone who owes any of you any favors. I'll do anything - please don't let Heero kill me!”

 

Quatre slithered from the bed and crawled across the floor until he reached Trowa. Slowly he worked his way up Trowa's powerful legs until he reached his goal. Neatly slipping his fingers into Trowa's jeans, he snitched the other pilot's wallet and began rifling through it. “Hey, he's calling from Starbucks, right? You've got a latte card, let's go meet him!”

 

Trowa sighed again. One of these days, Quatre would pull that little slinky sexpot act when he wasn't distracted… Then again, could it possibly be that Quatre was that clueless? Trowa frowned. Nearly every fansite put the two of them together, and for the longest time he'd thought that Quatre really did have a crush on him. But the constant teasing, almost innocent in its playfulness, was becoming very hard to deal with. Reacting to an unacknowledged impulse, Trowa shouted, “I can't take this much longer! I have needs, damn it!”

 

Duo blinked at the phone. “Dude, if you're still talking to Rashid, I do NOT want to know about it!”

 

“Er, right.” Trowa glanced around sheepishly, but Quatre seemed quite happily oblivious. “We'll be there. I can't speak for Wufei, though. You're on your own with that one.”

 

As Trowa hung up the phone, Quatre approached him with a serious gleam in his eye. “Trowa?”

 

“Yes?” Trowa breathed, thinking for one blissful moment that Quatre was about to pounce on him at last.

 

“What did you just volunteer me for?”