Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Forces At Work ❯ Forces At Work ( One-Shot )

Forces at Work

Pairing : 1x5

Rating : NC-17

Warnings : Yaoi, lemon, possible OOC

Disclaimer : GW belongs to Sunrise, Bandai and Sotsu Agency. NOT ME. Please don't sue.

Spoilers : None

+++++ : change of scene

The backroom honestly looked more like a war-zone than an office most times, and it was especially so right at this moment. A third of the workers were rushing to complete whatever unfinished business there was. Another third were rushing to grab and make a start to the new assignments sent down from the top. And the last third…

Quatre didn't have much time to ponder about the last third when an onrushing whirlwind of purplish-black hair and bright violet eyes forced him to take a step back.

"Quatre!" The whirlwind exclaimed. "Wow, look at the stuff you have there."

"Hello, Hilde." Quatre smiled as he glanced down wryly at the mountain of documents in his arms. "Have to get these to Duo."

"Duo?" Hilde looked surprised as she stepped forward to get a better look at the papers. "Aren't those supposed to be for Triton?"

Quatre blinked at the use of Trowa's real name. So far, most of the HQ had gotten used to calling the ex-pilot 03 by his birth name. The only ones still doing the verbal slipping were, admittedly, himself and the other three ex-pilots.

"They were." Quatre clarified. "But he went back to L3 two days ago, remember? This last bit of his work is assigned to Duo."

Hilde nodded ruefully. "Yeah, I remember. Sorry. I could have helped out, but I'm swamped at the moment."

The Arabian man shook his head. "Don't worry about it. Besides, I'm sure Duo wouldn't mind sacrificing *one* weekend." His eyes twinkled. "See you, Hilde."

They went their separate ways, leaving Quatre on his way towards Duo's office. Trust the American man to choose his workplace so near to the din and commotion of the backroom. That man just couldn't live without the buzz of activity.

Reaching Duo's office, he knocked, waited for the familiar voice to shout an affirmation, before entering. The interior was surprisingly neat, but Quatre knew better. Duo usually did his spring-cleaning on the first day of every month where he would, at one go, re-organise every single object present in the room. Otherwise, for the rest of the month, the office usually looked like a typhoon-struck area. And incidentally, today was the seventh.

Duo was currently on his vid-comm, conversing with some individual Quatre wasn't sure of yet. Coiling and uncoiling his braid around one hand, the American man looked full of cheer as usual, brimming with some energy that always seemed to elude most of the Preventers. Duo looked up and winked as Quatre settled into the swivel-chair opposite him.

"Yes, Soldier-boy. I got it! God forbid I should fail."

Quatre smiled. Soldier-boy? It must be Heero on the other end, then. He waited until Duo had ended the exchange, before speaking. "Heero and last minute instructions?"

`What else?" Duo rolled his eyes. "You know today's wrap-up. I've already got a team on standby. I wish he'd just cut me some slack."

"He probably wouldn't have been so uptight…" Quatre shifted guiltily in his seat. "If Wufei hadn't just left like that. Or if we had handled the entire matter more tactfully."

"Don't worry `bout it, Q." Duo tossed his braid back. His large violet eyes were sympathetic. "You *know* Wu. He freaks out like that. He'd be fine after the mission. Besides, Heero didn't say anything about it."

That was the second problem bothering Quatre - the fact that Heero had so little reaction to Wufei's moving out. Granted, Wufei had made it clear it was for the mission, but still…For the umpteenth time, Quatre recalled that day when he, Trowa and Duo had sat the other two pilots down and just basically - Quatre winced at the memory - *announced* that they knew the exact nature of the relationship between the two of them. Wufei's face, he remembered, had turned so ashen he looked almost grey. What happened next was so abrupt they didn't have time to respond. Wufei and Heero were both assigned to the Banks mission, and Wufei packed up and left just like that. Heero hadn't said a word about it to them. In fact, Heero hadn't seemed particularly concerned. Until just now, that was.

"Don't kill yourself over it." Duo's voice broke his reverie.

"I'm just..." Quatre put voice to his biggest concern. "What if he doesn't come back?"

"He will." Duo said confidently. "At least, Heero will see that he does. We'll just make sure we don't screw up our part of the job, and the rest is up to Heero. Besides, I think it's about time Wufei learns to live and let go. Some things just aren't gonna be in his control."

A smile began to bloom on Quatre's face. "Will you say that to his face?" he couldn't help teasing his friend.

"I might." Duo grinned back. "If you hide that nasty sword of his far, far away."

Quatre laughed. He felt better as he always did after talking to the irrepressible American. "I have to get back to work, Duo. Here, this is Trowa's share of the Uranus project. Take a look at it, will you?"

"The hell!" Duo exploded as he took in the pile of documents, files and outlines. He had been so busy talking to Quatre he hadn't actually noticed them. "For me? But Q, I'm already behind time with my own - "

"Live and let go, Duo." Quatre said sagely as he got up and turned towards the door. When he had exited the office and was safely out of earshot of Duo's grumbling, he allowed himself a little chuckle.

++++++++++

The club was smack in the middle of the Complex, and attracted customers in all shapes and forms. Middle-class workers made up the bulk of its patrons, with the occasional gathering of dubious societal figures forming the extreme ends of the people flow. Banks, the owner of this whole block of the Complex, was of course, a perfect illustration of one of those figures.

In the various days he had sat there analysing the whole makeup of the place, he had often tried to determine the various factors that could attract the patrons. He had first decided it was mindless entertainment and indulgence. Yet he had seen the distinct jadedness that showed up so clearly in the eyes of the visitors. Someone had once told him, in a rather intoxicated fashion, that it was for the drinks and the people. The people?

He wasn't there for the people. He was just there for one person - the latest waiter to join the service.

It came as no real surprise either, that almost instantly after getting hired, that waiter nabbed as much as attention as his more experienced co-workers. Jet-black hair, copper skin and almond-shaped eyes that could exude both shyness and contempt at the same time were the most possible reasons.

His eyes tracked every move of the young man, observing how the compact, black-clad figure weaved in and out of the patrons and tables with his perfectly-balanced trays, neatly side-stepping any groping hands or errant fingers. His eyes missed nothing, certainly not an attempt by a drunken patron to accost the dark-haired waiter.

His fingers tightened convulsively around his glass.

The lout was a troll of a man, and so drunk he probably wouldn't be able to intimidate the waiter into *anything*. However, he was persistent, and with one beefy hand gripping like a vice around a slender copper wrist, the young waiter was clearly rattled.

By sheer rationale alone, he managed not to get *out* of his corner and *at* the brute.

Two fellow bar employees hastened to the deadlock, quick to disperse any possibility of mayhem. The drunken patron was eased off his victim, and sent on his way. The unfortunate waiter was brought to the back of the club.

He slowly relaxed his fingers, enough to pry his hand away from the innocent glass to look at his watch. The team would be despatched any moment.

"Hey."

He glanced up into bright grey eyes.

"You been coming here often?"

"When I have time." He answered levelly, and not entirely untruthfully.

The woman laughed. She tossed her head and indicated the empty seat opposite him with her eyes. "Taken?"

He shook his head and she settled onto the seat. In the several seconds that followed, he studied his drink while she studied him.

"Don't bother." She said quite abruptly.

He blinked, not quite catching the meaning behind the statement.

"I saw you…" She took a long draught from her drink. When she looked at him again, there was an almost-teasing smile on her reddened lips. "Lee. The new boy? You were staring at him all the time. Don't look at me like that. You know you were."

"Maybe." He answered evenly.

"Forget it." She said somewhat wryly. "He's see-no-touch. *Strictly* see-no-touch. That beefcake just now? He's lucky. Last week, someone tried the same move on pretty boy and got thrashed in the toilets. Haven't you heard?"

"No." He was entirely truthful this time around, although none too surprised.

"Well, now you know. My advice - don't try anything funny with him. You don't want to be chewed up."

Heero considered that for a moment, before leaning forward to pick up his glass. "I will remember that." He said agreeably.

++++++++++

"Feeling better?"

Wufei tried not to grimace. "Yes. *This* much better." He illustrated his point with his thumb and index finger held apart by the grand distance of one millimetre.

The other man laughed. "You'd never get used to this, Lee."

"Go away, Jai." Wufei scowled. He wasn't really angry, of course, but his mood had hit an all-time low, his wrist was still sore and that grinning idiot of man wasn't helping any. Sullenly, he let his gaze wander around the club. It was something he did often for the past month. God, he wanted out of this place so badly he was even starting to dream of it.

"Your eye-rings are so dark! What, haven't you slept in three days or something?"

Wufei looked away. The words hit him more than Jai would ever know. It wasn't just dark eye-rings. It was moving out of the maisonette and shacking up at a tiny, dank apartment so that he could be nearer the target location and subjects. It was four weeks of working odd hours surrounded by smoke, sleaze and characters he would rather die than be within a metre-radius of. He had not come into direct contact with any of the other Preventers since he accepted the mission, choosing instead to relay any information he had sieved through carefully coded messages. At the back of his mind, he wondered if he was just insanely stubborn, or just a coward for choosing this angle of approaching his work.

Truth was, he hadn't been able to look any of his comrades in the eye after finding out that they knew about he and Heero.

"You okay?" Jai's face suddenly appeared right before his eyes. "You were, like, spacing out."

"I'm fine." Wufei said exasperatedly.

"Oh, right." Jai scoffed.

Wufei shot him the look of death. With his devil-may-care manner and bright laugh, Jai was one of the most popular employees there, but he was also altogether too blunt for his own good.

"So touchy." Jai shook his head in mock-admonishment. "How does *he* handle you? With a belt and chains?" He suggested innocently.

Wufei could feel his cheeks doing a slow burn. He just knew it was a mistake ever letting Jai find out that he was not only interested in the other side of the fence, but that he was also attached. And right now, he was finding out exactly how grave a mistake that was. Sighing inwardly, he ignored the snickering man and headed for the staff room. He was starting to feel a little unwell.

On the way, he paused to check the digital numbers on the band he wore around his right, and unmarked wrist. His pulse quickened. By this time, Heero should have completed the mission and left the location. However, he had yet to receive any further orders or information. For a brief moment, the utterly irrational notion of Heero failing and getting caught struck him, and he chided himself at once. That wouldn't happen…but there was always the possibility. Wufei stumbled into the isolated staff washrooms.

He felt even more nauseous now.

++++++++++

Heero hovered near the back of the club. Earlier, he had parted ways with the stranger. She had headed for another table, while here he was, waiting for the message that would release him from the mission.

He glanced in the direction that Wufei had disappeared. It'd be easy for him to slip inside the staff area. Clutching his receiver, he waited, and wasn't disappointed when the message finally arrived.

He read the characters with no small sense of satisfaction.

[We're on him.]

++++++++++

The air was still, except for the lone whirr of the ventilation fan tucked away in a top corner. It still felt stifling, though not as much as the club itself. He headed right for the cubicle at the end. It had a sink and that was what counted. Slipping inside, he shut the door behind him and leaned heavily against the cold surface of said sink. He closed his eyes and tried meditation. Slowly, he began to silence each intruding sound and thought in his mind, letting himself float in the darkness behind his shut lids. He was succeeding, or near succeeding until the darkness sparked suddenly and he felt an extra presence right *behind* him.

His eyes flew open and he raised his head, momentarily disoriented. In the split-second that followed however, he recognised the arm that suddenly looped around his waist and the feel of a lean, hard body pressed up against his back.

"Heero." He blinked. There was no mistaking the tall, lithe frame spooning him from behind. The Japanese man had gotten rid of his disguise, and changed into simple shirt and slacks. A familiar ache swelled in his chest, threatening to overwhelm him. He didn't think suddenly seeing and feeling Heero this close again could mean this much. Even Heero's ever-rakish hair now tickling his temple and cheek felt good.

His left forearm was gripped and lifted. Cobalt eyes narrowed as Heero surveyed the finger marks around his wrist.

Wufei pointedly ignored the look of bloody murder on his lover's face. "Heero." He said again, trying to turn and failing when the arm around his waist refused to give. "We're still on a mission." He hissed, unable to ignore the coil of tension still heavy in his gut. He didn't know about Heero, but he knew he himself was still very much in mission mode.

In reply, the Japanese man eased up a little with a sharp exhalation of breath that Wufei didn't miss. Without breaking contact, Heero fished through his clothes and seconds later, produced a tiny disk between his fingers. Wufei snatched it out of his hand and examined it.

"How much?"

"Everything." Heero said into Wufei's ear, taking the time to nuzzle the soft shell and lobe with his lips, and liking the little tremor through the warm body cradled against himself.

Wufei breathed in sharply, his hand tightening on the precious object. All those days of shadowing those phoney businessmen and working as in that goddamned club were now over, albeit not officially as of yet. "Mission accomplished." He said to their reflected images in the grimy glass plane that masqueraded as a mirror. His eyes caught and held Heero's dark cobalt gaze, and he knew the satisfied gleam in Heero's eyes mirrored his own.

The corner of Heero's lip curled in a smirk. "We might have broken the record."

"The one that Trowa and Quatre held?" Wufei raised a dark brow. Records were something of an inside joke in the HQ. It was fair game for everyone. Anything could be turned into a record, and a new one would pop up monthly. It helped keep them sane; providing a bit of a challenge and some much-needed banter to ease the often-frenetic atmosphere.

"Trowa, Quatre, Ming and Anya." Heero corrected. "The `Fastest-Cracking-Of-A-Business-Related-Mission' record."

Oh, that one. Wufei made a noise that sounded like a cross between a snicker and a laugh. "That's old. The newest one is the `Fastest-Cracking-Of-A-Mission-By-A-Couple'. Duo came up with it. And why do I have the feeling he's hinting at something?"

"Bothered?"

Silence met that question. Wufei dropped his gaze, suddenly finding the fine cracks in the sink particularly interesting. It was a one-word question, but it carried implications that had been haunting him for all this time. He thought hard about it; something he was doing all too often and too much. The past weeks had been some of the most trying he had since he joined the Preventers, what with the pressure of cracking a mission that was pre-determined to be a piece-of-cake for the ex-Wing and Nataku pilots, and the stress of handling the possibility of their relationship getting exposed to public. The rest of the ex-pilots finding out about it was mortifying enough…imagine the HQ…then imagine Relena Peacecraft…and next, the world. It was a very, very daunting reality. Then, he thought about Heero - the man whose arms he was currently residing in. Heero versus the world…how was he to choose?

He was startled momentarily out of his mental rambling by a low chuckle near his ear.

Heero was laughing. Wufei thought Heero had a beautiful laugh. It was low, raspy and sounded strange to the unfamiliar ear, but it was beautiful to him because ever since the wars, Heero never laughed unless he felt true mirth.

"You're afraid."

"I'm not." Wufei growled. Several heartbeats skipped by. He felt Heero's body go still, then a large calloused hand was tilting his chin up so he found himself staring right into deep cobalt pools.

"No?"

It was hard to think while being held prisoner by those eyes but Wufei managed to process that monosyllabic question. "No." He managed to answer as well, even if it came out sounding like a croak.

"We'll see."

Heero kissed him. It was gentle, yet making up for it with sheer desire alone, and steadily grew more demanding until Wufei gave himself to it. He wasn't going to lie to himself about it; he had missed Heero badly. And now, four weeks of abstinence from Heero were being brought to a crashing stop by his senses being surrounded on all ends by the man himself. The clean, sharp and masculine scent of Heero's skin in his nose, the faintest traces of alcohol still lingering in Heero's mouth, and Heero's hands wandering and massaging across his shoulders and towards his neck.

Once those soothing hands reached the top button of his shirt, Wufei pulled away. "Yuy." He chided, yet acutely aware of how heavy his voice sounded. You know we shouldn't do this. Not…what do you think you're doing?"

"Changing…" Heero used his right hand to ease his lover's face back towards his. With his left, he began working free the top button. "Your…" It slid free of its clasp, and he made short work of the next three. "Mind." He slanted his mouth and kissed the pliant mouth hard, sweeping his tongue inside in blatant exploration.

His hand caressed the bared caramel chest, before sliding beneath the half-undone shirt. He felt the tiny hitch in Wufei's breathing once his fingers found a half-hard nipple. For the moment however, he decided to forgo teasing, settling instead for firm, comforting strokes over the taut copper chest and abdomen, tracing every line of smooth muscle, brushing over faint ridges of faded scars and little imperfections.

Wufei did relax, if very slowly, but Heero was patient, controlling the pace and intensity of their shared kisses and caresses until the dark-haired man all but melted into his embrace. Heero hadn't been with Wufei for all this time not to know that his normally high-strung temperament could get even more tensed when a mission was involved. Heero smoothly finished unbuttoning the rest of the shirt, before letting his hand drift lower to rest his fingers on the waistband. Almost expectedly, Wufei tensed at once. Heero kept his hand still.

"Heero…" Wufei's voice was breathy and unsteady. "We still need to report back to - "

"I've already informed the HQ. They have everything I got from the systems."

"But - "

"They're closing in on Banks as we speak."

Wufei snorted. Oh, he'd be damned if speaking were all Heero planned on doing. Yet, even as his logic insisted that this was neither the time nor the place to be doing *this*, those teasing fingers tracing the length of his waistband was increasingly distracting. At length, he sighed and tilted his head back to rest against Heero's shoulder. "You always get your way, don't you, Yuy?"

That was Heero's cue. He dipped his head and nuzzled against the soft hollow of copper neck. "Only if it's also your way, Chang."

Wufei swore he had a good rejoinder ready, but it was lost somewhere in his own gasp when Heero's lips and teeth found their way to the most sensitive spots in his neck. His eyes fluttered shut despite his will. Somewhere southwards, he felt purposeful fingers quickly undoing the top of his pants, then the gratingly slow slide of the zip. He groaned when the same hand settled over his clothed member.

Heero's strokes were firm and sure with that of familiarity, and the thin, raw silk of black underwear was nothing but a heightening of sensation that had Wufei writhing against him. He kept one arm restrained around the slender copper waist, before sliding his busy hand into the underwear and pulling the member out of its silky confines. The heated flesh throbbed in his hand. Crying out, Wufei arched back into him, moans quickly escalating into plaintive whimpers that Heero swallowed as he tasted the soft, wet mouth again.

He wouldn't last much longer if this went on. "S…stop…" Breaking the kiss, Wufei tried for as much coherency as he could with the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf him. "Stop." Almost in desperation, he clamped his own hand over Heero's, effectively stilling that sinfully pleasurable caressing.

Heero felt the quivering in his lover's half-naked copper body from efforts to rein in his arousal. He tightened his arm around the warm body against his chest, pressing his cheek against the dark head. He removed his hand from the painfully hard erection. Any more, and he would bring Wufei off too quickly, and perhaps even himself. With his own aching groin pressed into Wufei's rear, separated only by the cloth, his breathing was almost as ragged as Wufei's.

Wufei's head still rested against his shoulder, a warm, comfortable pressure. As they took the moment to regain some measure of control. Heero settled for studying at their reflections, openly appraising his handiwork.

Save for the rumpled shirt still clinging onto his arms, the Chinese man's upper body was completely bared from the muscled curves of shoulders, to the sleek planes of chest and abdomen. Heero let his eyes wander over narrow curves of waist and hips, before lowering his scrutiny to take in the heavy, swollen erection jutting from above the gaping rift in the pants. He allowed himself a flare of possessive pride. He would be the only one to ever see the fiery Chinese man in a state of such utter debauchment.

"Now, Heero."

Heero blinked, suddenly noticing the sweet flush on copper cheeks…the kiss-swollen mouth…and most of all, the silent want in the large sloe eyes staring back him in the mirror. It had been four weeks after all.

The next few seconds were a complete blur to Wufei. He felt himself whirled around; the surroundings of the cramped cubicle taking a quick spin as he was slammed back first into the wall. He barely had enough time to gasp. Heero's hands were all over his body, yanking off the rest of his clothes, and he felt himself tugging just as blindly at Heero's shirt, not seeing if he was doing it right, but just wanting that obstructive material off *now*.

They kissed hard, mouths crushing together, whatever tenderness there was earlier now replaced by raw need, breaking apart only when Heero stepped back to finish the stripping Wufei had clumsily begun. His hands trembled, tripping over the simplest catches, eyes hungrily drinking in the naked caramel form draped against the wall. Finally stepping free from the pants that slithered down to his ankles and now fully bared, Heero raised a hand to his lover's dark head and slid off the constricting hair-tie. Instantly, raven hair winged around the flushed face.

Wufei's heavy-lidded gaze lingered over the light fawn skin and lean, hard muscles of Heero's body, before he reached out impatiently and drew the other man close. He wrapped his arms around broad shoulders, pressing their bodies together as tightly as possible. "Don't wait." He breathed into Heero's ear, those two words bearing every ounce of his desire.

Wait? Heero honestly didn't think he *could* wait, even if he wanted to, with his own arousal fast reaching the state Wufei was in. He groped for the liquid soap dispenser. It wasn't quite lubricant, but it'd do. Thank the heavens for small favours. He reached down and pulled one copper leg up and around his waist. Following the line of calf to thigh, his hand slid over the smooth skin, reached the tight curve of buttock, and slipped into the cleft between.

Raven hair fanned wildly against the wall as Wufei arched his head. His vision, unfocused and hazy, narrowed to take in the stained grey of the. He felt slickened fingers carefully entering him, the sting that quickly followed, and soft puff of air against his ear that came from Heero calling his name.

"Wufei."

He tore his eyes away and it was no longer grey but the deepest blue he was drowning in. In reply, he wrapped his other leg around Heero's waist. Heero leaned heavily into him, bracing both of their weights against the wall, one hand curved around his own shaft, guiding the tip to the tight entrance.

Wufei crushed his eyes shut when the blunt head slipped past and into him. He muffled his groans against Heero's shoulder, knowing that it was just as difficult for Heero to slowly slide in inch by inch until he was fully sheathed. The pain was agony, but Wufei was almost glad for it. It was something had grown too used to. And because it was Heero, then the pain wasn't quite that bad. He tightened his legs around Heero's waist as the other began to move.

The strokes were heavy, harder than Wufei remembered, and with the sweat-slickened wall propping him up, the angle had each thrust brushing against the spot that sent jolts of electrifying sensation thrumming all over him. Moans tumbled feverishly from his lips as he lost himself to the rhythm, the tension stretching unbearably tight. When it finally snapped, he cried out, climaxing almost violently.

The air quivered with ragged breathing and thick undercurrents of the sounds of flesh meeting flesh. Heero clutching wells into copper hips, unable to hold anything back any longer; just thrusting relentlessly. His control was but tatters now with the heat and tightness clenching around him, and he came, with low cry, deep inside Wufei. His whole body shuddering, he held himself still for several moments, before giving in to exhaustion and sliding to the flooring. Wufei followed him, legs still loosely curled around him, and Heero shifted until Wufei was somewhat straddling him.

They just held each other, too spent to do anything else. His head buried in Heero's neck, Wufei relished the warmth of the other's body and the deep rise and fall of Heero's chest that matched his own breathing. He couldn't believe he had voluntarily gone all these weeks without *this*.

He also couldn't believe it when distinct sound of vibrations shattered the atmosphere.

Heero jerked and was rewarded by a low growl from his sated lover. Much as he hated it himself, work was still work, and stretching out with as little movement as possible, Heero groped through his discarded clothes and pulled out his receiver. He thumbed the tiny keypad quickly, allowing the coded messages access. He deciphered and read them with eyebrow raised.

"What is it?" Wufei lifted his head wearily from Heero's neck. If it was work-related, he could perhaps, forgive the sender. If it wasn't, he could always do something about the hapless darling later.

"I have three. The first is from the HQ. They've got Banks."

Wufei was surprised himself. "That's fast."

"The second," Now Heero had a strange look on his face. "is also from the HQ, specifically Duo. He said that for our good work in completing the assignment, Une gave us a holiday."

"A holiday." Wufei repeated, his own brow shooting up to mirror Heero's expression. "I don't believe it."

Heero tossed his receiver back among the pile of clothes. "That is what he said. We don't have to report to work tomorrow."

"And the third message?"

Silence.

"Heero?"

The Japanese man tilted his head and regarded his lover. Even with a head of tangled hair and perched completely naked on Heero's lap, Wufei could still look imperious. He had that `tell-me-or-die' expression. Heero suddenly recalled the woman's advice about not getting chewed up.

"The third is from Quatre."

"Quatre?"

"He said your belongings have already been moved to my room."

Wufei blanched.

"You are to move back with us immediately, no negotiation permitted."

"Immediately?" The Chinese man protested. He wasn't ready to go back and face what he was sure would be an interrogation about his four-week self-imposed isolation. "But - "

"If he doesn't see you tomorrow morning, be prepared to get a fully armed Maguanac fetching you back."

"A Maguanac?" Wufei looked incredulous. "He wouldn't!"

Heero began to climb back onto his feet, pulling his griping lover up with him. They were both getting very sticky. He grabbed the rag that was hanging from the rack beside the sink. It'd have to do to get them both cleaned up.

"Is he threatening me?" Wufei was still rather stuck on Quatre's message. In fact, he was so stuck he didn't hear *it* until it was too loud to be missed.

Laughter, that's what.

Wufei blinked stupidly as he watched Heero holding onto the rag while laughing at him. This was the second time in the day that Heero had done it. Remember he said he thought Heero's laugh was beautiful? Well, he'd like to re-think it now.

"*What* is so funny?" Wufei demanded.

"You."

Him? Wufei's first reaction was to demand a further explanation. Then it hit him. Him running away instead of facing his fear about discovery, him going through the masochistic experience of working undercover in a club, and now him naked with dried fluids still stuck to his body and freaking out over a friend's concern. Well, he supposed it was funny, if you could see it from the Perfect Soldier's point of view.

Wufei jammed his hands on his hips. "Stop laughing and give me that thing."

Still chuckling, Heero complied, tossing the rag so it smacked into Wufei's chest.

The Chinese man caught it just before it hit the floor, and found he had to look away to hide the smile on his face.

~*~ fin ~*~
April 2003