Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Regretfully Yours ❯ Drinking is Bad ( Chapter 1 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Electric Rain 
Trowa and Heero realize the dangers of drinking.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.12.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 537 | Status: Completed
Trowa and Heero realize the dangers of drinking.
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 05.12.2005 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 537 | Status: Completed
Drinking is bad. Drinking is bad. Drinking is bad, Trowa repeated as he slowly woke up. His head was pounding and his stomach threatened to send him running to the bathroom if he dared to move. What in the hell happened? He remembered drinking but it shouldn't have been enough to get drunk. The bartender that was on duty last night hated Trowa so he always watered down his drinks. So why do I feel like I've been drinking all night. Suddenly flashes of the bartender ran through his mind.
Here Trowa, try this. It's a new drink I'm working on. I'm trying to get the waiters opinion on it.
"What about this one? Does it taste better than the last?"
"No, this is made with vodka. The other two had rum."
"This one is my grandmothers secret recipe. She said it was for her "cough".
"It's potent isn't it? It's called the Devastator.
Son of a bitch! When I see him he's a dead man, Trowa thought. What was I thinking taking drinks from him? But Trowa already knew the answer to that. He hadn't been thinking. His mind had been preoccupied with something, no, someone else.
Quatre....
Trowa was snapped out of his thoughts as there was slight movement beside him. He froze and silently prayed that it was a cat or rat or anything but what he knew it to be. He opened his eyes, which had been closed up until then, and found himself staring at the back of a head full of brown hair. Trowa wasn't shocked or disgusted at waking up in someone else's bed, just a little disappointed. This was a scene that was eerily familiar. A scene that he thought he left behind when he moved.
"Same old Trowa." he muttered to himself.
The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he didn't know who the stranger was or how they got there. He didn't need to ask himself what happened because the feel of the sheets directly against his skin told him that he was naked. He wasn't sore so that meant he hadn't been penetrated. Should I be happy about that, he wondered. Still, he didn't like not knowing who the hell was lying beside him or where they were. Used to situations like this, Trowa was able to silently slip out of the bed. Quickly, but quietly, he found his clothes and left the bedroom. Now that he was able to look around, he could see that they were in an expensive hotel suite. Just great Trowa, he thought. That guy probably thinks you're a prostitute. Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he quickly got dressed. With a promise to put this out of his mind forever, Trowa left.
It took Trowa an hour to get home. When he ran from the hotel he hadn't thought about how hard it would be to get a ride at that time of night so he had been forced to walk. By the time he got home he was tired, sore, and still feeling sick. Never before had he been so happy to return to his small apartment. He grabbed the mail that had been sitting in the box for the last three days and half- heartedly shifted through it. Trowa paused when he noticed a letter from his sister. He didn't need to open it to know that inside was a check that he had sent her. It was about ten o'clock where the circus was so he went over to the phone and called Cathy. He really didn't want to call her but it was best to get it over now.
"Bloom residence." she said finally answering.
"Cathy, it's Trowa."
"This is a surprise. Usually I have to call you."
"Why did you send back my share of the money for Lillian's nurse?"
"I told you I would. Use your money for your own expenses. I can handle it on my own."
Unfortunately they both knew that she couldn't. The money she earned at the circus was barely enough to cover living expenses much less a private nurse. As for his own expenses, he didn't have much. Just clothes, a little food and anything he needed for school. The job with the bakery he worked at came with a free room upstairs and all of the free samples of the baked goods that he wanted.
"And before you argue about not spending that much, what about that car you wanted to buy."
Trowa shook his head slightly. Trust Cathy to play dirty. She knew that he had found the car of his dreams and was in negotiations with the owner to buy it at a reasonable price. The car needed to be fixed up but since he didn't spend his money on anything else, he could devote anything he had to the car.
"Don't worry about me. I've got a second job." he replied. "The pay is good."
"You're not doing anything illegal are you?"
There was silence from Trowa and Cathy sighed.
"God Trowa, I shouldn't have asked that."
He ran his hand through his hair and let out a sigh of his own. It didn't bother him that she asked the question but the fact that he had given her reason to did. He understood why she had to. There had been a brief period where Trowa had, for lack of a better description, gone wild. And most of the things he did during that time had came close to, if not totally, breaking the law. Trowa frowned as he heard Cathy apologize for asking the question. I should be the one apologizing, he thought. Besides being a delinquent, he had been a downright asshole to Cathy. For some odd reason he had went out of his way to be cruel to her. Whenever she told him that she was worried about him or tried to warn him about his new "friends", he would remind her that she wasn't really his sister. Therefore she should mind her own business because she didn't have any say over what he did and that he only listened to her because he felt like it. And despite all of that, when the fun was over and his back was against the wall, it was Cathy who stood by him and got him out of trouble.
"Don't apologize to me." he finally said. "I understand why you asked. And no, it's not illegal."
For the most part, he added silently. Trowa was a waiter/bartender at a hotel bar on the weekends, which was perfectly legal. Except for the fact that he was seventeen and not twenty-one like his ID said.
"It sounds like I don't trust you when I do."
"I know."
Trowa didn't want to talk about this anymore. He already had enough on his mind with Quatre and waking up with the stranger. He didn't need to relive the quilt he felt for being a cruel asshole to the one person who cared. And now his head was hurting again. Just great.
"Cathy, I need to get some sleep before I go to school."
"Why are you up at this time anyway. It’s about three a.m. there isn’t it? I didn't mean to keep you up."
"Just so you know, I'm sending you back the money. Don't send it back."
Before she could say anything, Trowa hung up and unplugged the phone. He grabbed a few aspirin and swallowed them as he walked over to the bed. Without bothering with his clothes or shoes, he crawled in and buried his head under the covers. Hopefully, he'd be able to forget the last few hours had happened. The only good thing about my life bing in hell is the fact that the only way left to go is up, he thought. Then again, knowing my luck, hell's got a basement. Trowa groaned and let himself fall asleep.
"I'm going to get that car even if it kills me." he mumbled as he got off the bus and slowly started heading toward school. There was nothing worse than having to take public transportation when you were dealing with a hangover. The constant talking was like a jackhammer to his head. And the smells...god the smells were enough to drive him insane. Nothing like smoke, cheap perfume, and body odor to further sicken his already unsteady stomach. If he hadn't had three tests, one which he couldn't make up, he would've stayed in bed. He suddenly noticed an unusual amount of people standing out front of school, and they were holding microphones.
Reporters? I wonder what happened.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when a hand clamped over his mouth and another one grabbed his arm. Trowa instantly went to twist towards the person and start fighting.
"It's us." Quatre said as he let go.
Trowa took a small step back and looked from Quatre to Duo and then back to Quatre. He sighed inwardly. He really didn't want to deal with them at the moment. Maybe he'd be up to it in a few days or when he wasn't feeling like complete garbage. But he couldn't not deal with them. Any weird behavior on his part and they'd start questioning him. And more than anything, Trowa didn't want to have that discussion.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?"
"Come on and we'll tell you."
Quatre grabbed his hand and started dragging him away from school.
"School is that way." Trowa protested.
Quatre just gave him a look that said follow me or else so Trowa sighed and followed. They walked to the farthest end of the parking lot and then went behind a van that blocked their view of the school.
"Quatre, Duo, what's going on?"
"Have a good weekend?" Duo asked.
"It was fine. Why?" Trowa asked suspiciously.
Trowa looked at them and his suspicion grew. Quatre was looking at him with an odd expression and Duo...well Duo was desperately trying not to laugh.
"That's it. One of you better tell me what the hell's going on or...."
Trowa was cut off as Quatre thrust a newspaper in front of his face. He looked at it and any hint of a smile was replaced by outright shock. Duo and Quatre watched the color drain from his face.
"Trowa, you okay?"
An eye twitch was his only response as his already frayed nerves were shot to hell. He was so far from okay that it wasn't funny. Trowa resisted the urge to laugh insanely as he suddenly pictured someone who looked suspiciously like himself being shoved off a cliff.
"Say something." Quatre said placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Or at least do something so we know that you haven't gone into a coma." Duo added.
"Hell does have a basement." he mumbled.
Trowa then pushed them out of the way and ran to the bushes to throw up.
Heero got out of the shower and quickly dried off. He needed to get to work earlier than usual so he could take care of something that couldn't wait until the end of the day. He glanced at himself in the mirror and nodded approvingly. He looked like his usual cold distant self. No one would ever realize that he was actually suffering from a major hangover, which was odd because alcohol never bothered him before. Besides, he didn't even recall drinking that much. He sat on a chair and put on his socks and shoes. Heero noticed the bed and frowned. He had brought someone back to the hotel room with him last night. That had been obvious from the moment he woke up naked and noticed the rumpled bed and lingering scent of cologne that wasn't his. The question on his mind was who? Not knowing who really bothered him. The person could have stolen from him or even worse, given him some sort of disease. Heero shuddered. He'd have to schedule an appointment with his doctor for tests. That thought forced Heero to get up and start dressing faster. He needed to see his uncle Jay and ask him exactly what happened at the bar last night. Maybe then he'd be able to find this stranger and pay him to take some tests as well. The last thing he truly remembered was making a comment about the fact that their waiter was at the bar drinking. After that there were brief flashes of more drinks, complimentary snacks, some drunk bumping into him, and...dancing? Heero didn't even want to think about what that was all about. He got up and walked over to the room service cart which held his usual breakfast, coffee and the newspaper. Instead of sitting, he stood over the cart and fixed his coffee with one hand and open the newspaper with the other. The cup was halfway to his lips when Heero finally noticed what was on the front page of the paper. Totally forgotten, the cup slipped out of his hand and shattered onto the floor. The hot coffee splashing him on it's way down went ignored. Nothing could have ever shocked Heero more than the headline that stared out at him.
Multi-millionaire businessman Heero Yuy weds high school student, Trowa Barton.
Converting /tmp/phpEl1F3Z to /dev/stdout
Here Trowa, try this. It's a new drink I'm working on. I'm trying to get the waiters opinion on it.
"What about this one? Does it taste better than the last?"
"No, this is made with vodka. The other two had rum."
"This one is my grandmothers secret recipe. She said it was for her "cough".
"It's potent isn't it? It's called the Devastator.
Son of a bitch! When I see him he's a dead man, Trowa thought. What was I thinking taking drinks from him? But Trowa already knew the answer to that. He hadn't been thinking. His mind had been preoccupied with something, no, someone else.
Quatre....
Trowa was snapped out of his thoughts as there was slight movement beside him. He froze and silently prayed that it was a cat or rat or anything but what he knew it to be. He opened his eyes, which had been closed up until then, and found himself staring at the back of a head full of brown hair. Trowa wasn't shocked or disgusted at waking up in someone else's bed, just a little disappointed. This was a scene that was eerily familiar. A scene that he thought he left behind when he moved.
"Same old Trowa." he muttered to himself.
The only thing that bothered him was the fact that he didn't know who the stranger was or how they got there. He didn't need to ask himself what happened because the feel of the sheets directly against his skin told him that he was naked. He wasn't sore so that meant he hadn't been penetrated. Should I be happy about that, he wondered. Still, he didn't like not knowing who the hell was lying beside him or where they were. Used to situations like this, Trowa was able to silently slip out of the bed. Quickly, but quietly, he found his clothes and left the bedroom. Now that he was able to look around, he could see that they were in an expensive hotel suite. Just great Trowa, he thought. That guy probably thinks you're a prostitute. Shaking his head to rid himself of those thoughts, he quickly got dressed. With a promise to put this out of his mind forever, Trowa left.
It took Trowa an hour to get home. When he ran from the hotel he hadn't thought about how hard it would be to get a ride at that time of night so he had been forced to walk. By the time he got home he was tired, sore, and still feeling sick. Never before had he been so happy to return to his small apartment. He grabbed the mail that had been sitting in the box for the last three days and half- heartedly shifted through it. Trowa paused when he noticed a letter from his sister. He didn't need to open it to know that inside was a check that he had sent her. It was about ten o'clock where the circus was so he went over to the phone and called Cathy. He really didn't want to call her but it was best to get it over now.
"Bloom residence." she said finally answering.
"Cathy, it's Trowa."
"This is a surprise. Usually I have to call you."
"Why did you send back my share of the money for Lillian's nurse?"
"I told you I would. Use your money for your own expenses. I can handle it on my own."
Unfortunately they both knew that she couldn't. The money she earned at the circus was barely enough to cover living expenses much less a private nurse. As for his own expenses, he didn't have much. Just clothes, a little food and anything he needed for school. The job with the bakery he worked at came with a free room upstairs and all of the free samples of the baked goods that he wanted.
"And before you argue about not spending that much, what about that car you wanted to buy."
Trowa shook his head slightly. Trust Cathy to play dirty. She knew that he had found the car of his dreams and was in negotiations with the owner to buy it at a reasonable price. The car needed to be fixed up but since he didn't spend his money on anything else, he could devote anything he had to the car.
"Don't worry about me. I've got a second job." he replied. "The pay is good."
"You're not doing anything illegal are you?"
There was silence from Trowa and Cathy sighed.
"God Trowa, I shouldn't have asked that."
He ran his hand through his hair and let out a sigh of his own. It didn't bother him that she asked the question but the fact that he had given her reason to did. He understood why she had to. There had been a brief period where Trowa had, for lack of a better description, gone wild. And most of the things he did during that time had came close to, if not totally, breaking the law. Trowa frowned as he heard Cathy apologize for asking the question. I should be the one apologizing, he thought. Besides being a delinquent, he had been a downright asshole to Cathy. For some odd reason he had went out of his way to be cruel to her. Whenever she told him that she was worried about him or tried to warn him about his new "friends", he would remind her that she wasn't really his sister. Therefore she should mind her own business because she didn't have any say over what he did and that he only listened to her because he felt like it. And despite all of that, when the fun was over and his back was against the wall, it was Cathy who stood by him and got him out of trouble.
"Don't apologize to me." he finally said. "I understand why you asked. And no, it's not illegal."
For the most part, he added silently. Trowa was a waiter/bartender at a hotel bar on the weekends, which was perfectly legal. Except for the fact that he was seventeen and not twenty-one like his ID said.
"It sounds like I don't trust you when I do."
"I know."
Trowa didn't want to talk about this anymore. He already had enough on his mind with Quatre and waking up with the stranger. He didn't need to relive the quilt he felt for being a cruel asshole to the one person who cared. And now his head was hurting again. Just great.
"Cathy, I need to get some sleep before I go to school."
"Why are you up at this time anyway. It’s about three a.m. there isn’t it? I didn't mean to keep you up."
"Just so you know, I'm sending you back the money. Don't send it back."
Before she could say anything, Trowa hung up and unplugged the phone. He grabbed a few aspirin and swallowed them as he walked over to the bed. Without bothering with his clothes or shoes, he crawled in and buried his head under the covers. Hopefully, he'd be able to forget the last few hours had happened. The only good thing about my life bing in hell is the fact that the only way left to go is up, he thought. Then again, knowing my luck, hell's got a basement. Trowa groaned and let himself fall asleep.
"I'm going to get that car even if it kills me." he mumbled as he got off the bus and slowly started heading toward school. There was nothing worse than having to take public transportation when you were dealing with a hangover. The constant talking was like a jackhammer to his head. And the smells...god the smells were enough to drive him insane. Nothing like smoke, cheap perfume, and body odor to further sicken his already unsteady stomach. If he hadn't had three tests, one which he couldn't make up, he would've stayed in bed. He suddenly noticed an unusual amount of people standing out front of school, and they were holding microphones.
Reporters? I wonder what happened.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when a hand clamped over his mouth and another one grabbed his arm. Trowa instantly went to twist towards the person and start fighting.
"It's us." Quatre said as he let go.
Trowa took a small step back and looked from Quatre to Duo and then back to Quatre. He sighed inwardly. He really didn't want to deal with them at the moment. Maybe he'd be up to it in a few days or when he wasn't feeling like complete garbage. But he couldn't not deal with them. Any weird behavior on his part and they'd start questioning him. And more than anything, Trowa didn't want to have that discussion.
"What the hell is wrong with you two?"
"Come on and we'll tell you."
Quatre grabbed his hand and started dragging him away from school.
"School is that way." Trowa protested.
Quatre just gave him a look that said follow me or else so Trowa sighed and followed. They walked to the farthest end of the parking lot and then went behind a van that blocked their view of the school.
"Quatre, Duo, what's going on?"
"Have a good weekend?" Duo asked.
"It was fine. Why?" Trowa asked suspiciously.
Trowa looked at them and his suspicion grew. Quatre was looking at him with an odd expression and Duo...well Duo was desperately trying not to laugh.
"That's it. One of you better tell me what the hell's going on or...."
Trowa was cut off as Quatre thrust a newspaper in front of his face. He looked at it and any hint of a smile was replaced by outright shock. Duo and Quatre watched the color drain from his face.
"Trowa, you okay?"
An eye twitch was his only response as his already frayed nerves were shot to hell. He was so far from okay that it wasn't funny. Trowa resisted the urge to laugh insanely as he suddenly pictured someone who looked suspiciously like himself being shoved off a cliff.
"Say something." Quatre said placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Or at least do something so we know that you haven't gone into a coma." Duo added.
"Hell does have a basement." he mumbled.
Trowa then pushed them out of the way and ran to the bushes to throw up.
Heero got out of the shower and quickly dried off. He needed to get to work earlier than usual so he could take care of something that couldn't wait until the end of the day. He glanced at himself in the mirror and nodded approvingly. He looked like his usual cold distant self. No one would ever realize that he was actually suffering from a major hangover, which was odd because alcohol never bothered him before. Besides, he didn't even recall drinking that much. He sat on a chair and put on his socks and shoes. Heero noticed the bed and frowned. He had brought someone back to the hotel room with him last night. That had been obvious from the moment he woke up naked and noticed the rumpled bed and lingering scent of cologne that wasn't his. The question on his mind was who? Not knowing who really bothered him. The person could have stolen from him or even worse, given him some sort of disease. Heero shuddered. He'd have to schedule an appointment with his doctor for tests. That thought forced Heero to get up and start dressing faster. He needed to see his uncle Jay and ask him exactly what happened at the bar last night. Maybe then he'd be able to find this stranger and pay him to take some tests as well. The last thing he truly remembered was making a comment about the fact that their waiter was at the bar drinking. After that there were brief flashes of more drinks, complimentary snacks, some drunk bumping into him, and...dancing? Heero didn't even want to think about what that was all about. He got up and walked over to the room service cart which held his usual breakfast, coffee and the newspaper. Instead of sitting, he stood over the cart and fixed his coffee with one hand and open the newspaper with the other. The cup was halfway to his lips when Heero finally noticed what was on the front page of the paper. Totally forgotten, the cup slipped out of his hand and shattered onto the floor. The hot coffee splashing him on it's way down went ignored. Nothing could have ever shocked Heero more than the headline that stared out at him.
Multi-millionaire businessman Heero Yuy weds high school student, Trowa Barton.
Converting /tmp/phpEl1F3Z to /dev/stdout