Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ voodoo kiss ❯ voodoo kiss 2/? ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: holyfalling 
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.11.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 285 | Status: Work In Progress
Anime/Manga: Gundam Wing Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Romance / Drama / Comedy | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 08.11.2008 | Pages: 3 | Words: 3.7K | Visits: 285 | Status: Work In Progress
title:: voodoo kiss 2/?
author:: Psyence
rating:: NC-17
pairings:: 1x2, 3x4, mentions of 2x5
disclaimer:: go on, sue me. I dare you.
summary:: in which Heero is socio-phobic, Duo is annoyingly persistent,
Quatre meddles, Trowa helps, Wufei hinders and Relena gets in the way.
warnings:: yaoi, AU, strong language, lemons, humour, strange plot,
major UST.
###
Heero's apartment had a not-so-spectacular view of an alley and a brick wall. He kept his curtains drawn almost constantly, except for in summer when the rooms got stuffy. Only the bathroom and living room had windows, all of which had the same wonderful view. The kitchen and bedroom were miniscule, but Heero spent most of his time in the living room anyway - because that was where his computer was. And that was where he was when Quatre started banging on his door.
"I know you're in there! I can hear you typing!"
Heero stopped typing.
"I know you bailed on Relena last night!"
Heero still felt guilty for having left her, but it wasn't his fault. Not really, anyway. He couldn't help it if his brain went into over drive every now and then.
"Open this door!"
Heero started typing again.
"I'll break it down if you don't!"
Heero snorted at the image of the 5'4" effeminate man attempting to do so. The banging continued. Heero decided that he would go for a shower, and then open the door. Mostly because he hoped that Quatre would be gone by then, but also because he needed time to formulate an excuse, other then 'my brain froze', for why he had ran away from what could have been his first date in two years. In Heero's book, 10 minutes together didn't count as a date.
When Quatre was still knocking (no longer banging, at least) on the door after a ten minute shower, Heero escaped via the bathroom window, and was thankful that his apartment was on the first floor.
###
Heero had walked around for a good hour before he decided that confronting the proverbial bee’s nest that was Quatre should not be put off for any longer. He would simply tell him that Relena and he just hadn't clicked, and that he hadn't run away - he had graciously excused himself, just while she had been in the toilet. He had been quite the gentleman in fact, he reasoned, because he had removed all embarrassment on both their halves.
But later that day, when Heero proposed this idea to him Quatre didn't believe a word of it.
"That's not what Relena told me!" Quatre disagreed while sorting tie pins. Trowa cleared his throat in a manner that distinctly told Heero not to say a word. He ignored him.
"You've talked to her?" Heero didn't want to know what she had said.
"Of course I have! She phoned me last night saying that she'd lost you. Lost you!" He threw down a pin and placed both his hands on the counter. "I cannot believe you, Heero. You finally let me set you up with a perfectly decent girl and you go and ruin it. I should have guessed you'd run out."
"I didn't run out ..." Heero mumbled half heartedly. Quatre rolled his eyes.
"I know, you just left while she was in the ladies room. Trowa, tell him," Quatre demanded. Trowa gave him a bemused look and shrugged.
"What? Tell him what? That he shouldn't have run out? He knows that, Quatre."
"Alright, then you can learn from your mistake and not run out on her next time around," Quatre said. He was already reaching for the phone.
"No! I'm not going on another date with her!" Heero paled at the idea of sitting across from a woman who knew he was a coward.
"What do you mean? Of course you are. She thinks you're fantastic," he added, as if it would win Heero over entirely.
"We talked for 5 minutes! No - /she/ talked for 5 minutes!" Heero was ready to tackle Quatre to the ground if he lifted the receiver and called Relena to reschedule.
"Alright, fine," Quatre said, moving away from the phone. "Find your own girlfriend, I don't care. I need more tie pins." He walked out of the room and into the store room.
Heero sighed and deflated into one of the plush royal blue armchairs sitting at a right angle to the counter. He looked out of the front window and noticed that the sign was still peeling.
"You haven't got it fixed, have you?" Heero asked, nodding towards the window. The window was embossed with the words 'Barton & Winner' and underneath, 'Quality Menswear for Grooms to be' except some of the more vital letters were missing.
Trowa shook his head and leant off of the wall behind the counter.
"They can't send anyone for two weeks." Quatre came out of the store room carrying a small box of tie pins.
"By then all it'll say is 'Quality Men for Grooms to'. Who's going to want to buy from us then? Everyone'll think we're a brothel." Quatre resumed sorting the pins.
"Stop griping," Trowa said, kissing him on the side of the head and moving past him. "I'm making coffee, who wants some?" he called from the kitchen.
"Not me, it puts me in a bad mood," Quatre said.
###
Heero liked to sleep late on Tuesday's.
Since he worked for himself, he was allowed to designate his own holidays and workdays, and he had followed the same routine for the past three years. He had a five day working week, like most people. He was up at 8am every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, which left him two days to soak up all of the laziness his body managed to generate on his working days. He tried to be strict with himself, and ensured that he worked a minimum of 9 hours a day, with as many coffee and tea and lunch breaks as he so pleased.
Life was just that much easier when there was no one there to boss you around. Of course, this is assuming that Quatre does not exist.
At 10am, with an hour of sleeping still allotted on Heero's body clock, Quatre started knocking on his door again. Whether he had momentarily forgotten Heero's 'off' days, or whether he just didn't care was beside the point in Heero's book. He had to admit though, that it would be impossible to sleep while the short blond was banging on his door. He fell out of bed, opened his eyes enough to make his way across the room and through the door, towards the front door and opened it. With that done he went right back the way he'd come and crawled back under the still deliciously warm duvet.
"What are you doing?" Quatre asked from the bedroom doorway.
"Sleeping," Heero said into his pillow, trying to sink himself into the bed, and therefore back into sleep.
"Well you can't. Get up." Quatre started knocking on the bedroom door. Heero wanted to hurt him.
"Five more minutes," he said with a barely concealed growl. Quatre grunted in assent and left.
###
Heero managed to half bargain half intimidate an extra ten minutes out of Quatre after the initial five (which Heero was sure had been cut short), but eventually he had to get up. He showered and dressed while brewing a horrendous mood that he hoped he would be able to take out on Quatre.
Quatre, of course, was oblivious to this. He was sitting on Heero's expensive looking leather couch, and was flicking through a computer magazine that was at least three months old. He threw it down when Heero emerged from the bedroom toweling his hair dry and glaring for all he was worth.
"Finally," Quatre sighed. "Have some breakfast, we have to go shopping." Heero tossed the damp towel next to Quatre on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I don't need to go shopping," he said. He would not cave in and end up trailing after Quatre like a tame puppy. He had tried to defend himself against Quatre's naturally obnoxious nature before, but had failed miserably. Possibly, with a little bit of luck and only a very small miracle, he would succeed this time.
"I know /you/ don't, but Milliardo needs a birthday present and I want to get him something big, so I need you to help me carry it home." Which translated to: ‘I’m small and weak, please do all of the heavy lifting while I stand by and order you around?’
"His birthday isn't until next week." Heero was certain this was true. He looked at the calendar hanging above his computer in the corner of the room, but was too far away to see any of the neat, cramped writing in the small boxes.
Quatre sighed loudly. "I /know/ that! But his /party/ is tonight, I told you weeks ago!" He stood up and went to get his coat from the hook next to the door.
"No you didn't." Quatre put his coat on.
"Oh. Well I am now. Are you coming?" he asked rhetorically.
Heero went to get his coat.
###
Heero worked off of the simple idea that anything that takes over four hours to complete, and is not computer related, is not worth starting in the first place. Shopping would be one of those untouched parts of life. Food shopping was manageable - he bought the same food every week. Clothes shopping was done through a computer and paid for via credit card. He never had a random 'need' to shop, or an urge to buy something 'just because'. But Quatre did. Quatre shopped like it was going out of fashion, and also in slow motion. He took a good twenty minutes on each shop, often only to reject all items and move onto the next unsuspecting department store. He was also sidetracked /very/ easily. More than once Heero had to almost physically remind him why they were there, and Quatre eventually found the perfect gift for Milliardo (a large and heavy faux leather wingback armchair, that would apparently go perfectly behind his monstrosity of a desk). Heero didn't know that much about interior design, but he knew that taking up a good three meters with a table was ridiculous. But then again, the table was a previous gift from Quatre also.
Heero was thankful that Quatre had nagged Trowa into coming along as well, because without him Heero would have had to somehow carry the chair back to the shop alone, and knowing Quatre he would have insisted on sitting in it while Heero was moving it. Luckily, though, Trowa was there to save the day. Unfortunately, he couldn't save Heero's muscles from aching to high heaven. They both stoically ignored their aches and pains and managed to drag the chair back to what was now 'Quality Men for Grooms'.
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Quatre moaned, upon seeing the peeling sign. "Trowa, we have to do something about that sign," he said, meaning - 'Trowa, you have to do something about that sign'.
Heero resisted the urge to shove Quatre aside instead of waiting for him to move so that they could get inside, and set his side of the chair down as soon as they had crossed the threshold. He made for the door a second later.
"Uh - I don't think so, Mr." Quatre called just as Heero's hand grabbed the door handle. He groaned on the inside. "The party's in an hour, you may as well stay."
"I'm not - I can't stay for the party," he answered, pulling the door open an inch or so, almost hitting the bell at the top.
"Yes you can - and you are." Quatre was looking at himself in the full length mirror across the room, straightening his shirt and tie.
"I can't. I have stuff to do." Heero cringed at the awful excuse.
"Tough. You haven't been out in weeks." Quatre turned around to face him.
"I was out last night!" Heero let go of the door handle and turned as well. Quatre rolled his eyes.
"Oh, it's a miracle, he spent a whole half hour in the outside world," he said as he walked through into the store room.
Heero gave up and slouched down in one of the plush chairs.
###
"Okay, now - Heero - I want you to actually mingle at this party," Quatre told Heero on the way to the hotel, of which one of the most expensive rooms had been rented for Milliardo's party. Heero sat in the backseat of Trowa and Quatre's swish black car. Heero didn't know what make it was, and neither did he care. He could have especially cared less that night, because he didn't want to be in it at all. He was very conscious of the fact that it was too hot in the car, and before he knew it he was worrying about unsightly sweat patches. And then he began to worry that, once at the party, he would spill something on the suit that he had borrowed from Trowa and Quatre's inventory. It was black, so it was doubtful that a stain would be noticeable, but what if Trowa or Quatre did? He'd have to pay for the dry-cleaning. What if it was too badly damaged to even dry clean? What if he had to actually pay the full price of the suit? Heero didn't make that kind of money.
"Heero?" Quatre called, leaning around from the front passenger seat and staring at him. Heero noticed that he was sweating slightly and attempted to look calm and relaxed. Quatre saw right through his attempts and simply smiled lightly and patted him on the knee. "You'll be fine. It's just a party," he said. Heero scoffed on the inside. 'Just a party?' he thought. 'Maybe to you.'
Trowa pulled into the parking lot next to the hotel, which looked like a small mansion, and got out with Quatre. Heero took two deep breaths, remembered to exhale on the second one, and opened the car door.
Heero followed the other two inside, feeling his heart beating uncomfortably fast. His palms were getting sweaty, but he didn't want to wipe them on his trousers because what if someone saw and thought that he was a naturally sweaty man? Heero cringed at the thought. Heero trailed after Quatre as they stopped at the front desk to, presumably, ask where they were supposed to go, and then they walked down a long corridor with closed and fancy looking double doors at the end. Heero could hear the soft pumping of music, which he thought was coming from the room at the end of the corridor. They finally reached it, and Trowa opened the door, stepped inside and disappeared with Quatre. Heero didn't want to follow them. He made a bee-line for the edge of the room, where tables and chairs were set up for people who didn't wish to dance - of which there were few. Heero chose the table in the furthest corner, and therefore in the darkest shadow, and tried to make himself invisible while he checked out the large room and its inhabitants.
There were around two hundred people there, he guessed, and nearly all of them were on the dance floor. There was a buffet running along the side of the room, closest to Heero, and the tables that Heero was sitting at were mostly vacant. Only around 5 of them were in use, and all of them were 4 seaters. Heero scanned the swarming crowd for people that he recognised and glimpsed Milliardo's blond head bobbing somewhere in the middle. He saw the girl that he was dancing with get twirled around and then passed to someone else while he moved onto another. Heero looked away quickly when he thought about which of the girl's would be giving him a birthday present later on. Heero was still trying to forget this thought when Quatre emerged from the crowd with Relena.
Heero sat up straight and gripped the arms of his chair, ready to bolt, but they were too close for him to do so.
"Heero!" Quatre shouted over the music. He was grinning as though he was doing Heero a huge favour. "Look who I found!" Relena giggled, but the noise was completely lost in the roar of the music. She was looking at Heero through lowered eyelashes, in an obvious attempt to appear demure and sweet, but the dress that she was wearing ruined the effect. It was a pink halter neck number that came just above her knee, and which was so low-cut Heero was sure that, if it had extended 4 or 5 inches lower, he would have been able to see Relena's navel.
"Well! You two have fun then!" Quatre winked at Heero and left, plucking a glass of clear liquid off of the tray of a passing waiter as he went.
Even with the loud music, there was a deadly silence between Heero and Relena that settled as soon as Quatre had left. Heero was still gripping the arms of his chair, and was still tensing all of his muscles, as though ready to run again - which he was. Relena walked around the table and pulled out the chair next to him. Heero actually raised himself very slightly off of the chair.
"Hi!" Relena shouted, leaning uncomfortably close to Heero. "I'm really sorry about last night!" Heero was confused. She was apologising for him running out? He lowered himself back onto the chair - if she was going to apologise for his mistake, he didn't need to run so urgently. "I'm so sorry that you didn't think we clicked! I must have been talking too much!" Heero opened his mouth to say 'it's alright', but she continued, and leant closer at the same time so that she was well inside his personal space. "But you know, I can try harder! I could be the best you ever had if you just let me try!" she shouted. Heero realised that he was grimacing. His eyes flickered down towards her chest when he felt her breasts brush up against his arm. He froze. He looked back up at her face and stared. She lunged in for a kiss, and Heero jumped up so fast he was sure he had hit her accidentally.
"I, er-!" he managed before he turned and ran, for the second time in two days.
Heero was physically pushing people aside in his mad dash for an exit. He couldn't see any doors, or any windows, or anything other than people. He was starting to panic. He could feel his breathing getting shallow and slowed down, hugging the wall as he slowed to a fast walk along the outer rim of the room.
"Heero!" he heard someone call, but only just. He turned his head and saw Relena coming at him. His legs started up again without his brain even asking, and he was running again before his eyes could even part with the image of Relena bouncing towards him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that she was closing in, but a second later he had run full tilt into someone.
He heard the other person grunt as he collided with them, and grabbed at the person's shoulder to stop himself from falling over. The individual managed to hold him upright with a helping hand and, as Heero turned to say thank you, he saw that it was the busboy from the alleyway. The other man looked equally surprised.
"What are you-!" Heero began, feeling his heartbeat slow.
"Heero!" Relena shouted, much closer this time. He looked forwards and saw her standing right in front of him. "Why did you run away?!" His heartbeat sped up again.
"Relena- I - I'm-!" Heero stammered, almost feeling his knees knocking because the woman made him so nervous.
"Who's this?!" Relena asked, looking at the man. Heero realised that he was still gripping the man's shoulder, and that the busboy alike still had his own arm around his waist. He went to free himself but the grip around his waist tightened suddenly.
"I'm Duo Maxwell!" the man said, holding out his free hand. "His boyfriend!
author:: Psyence
rating:: NC-17
pairings:: 1x2, 3x4, mentions of 2x5
disclaimer:: go on, sue me. I dare you.
summary:: in which Heero is socio-phobic, Duo is annoyingly persistent,
Quatre meddles, Trowa helps, Wufei hinders and Relena gets in the way.
warnings:: yaoi, AU, strong language, lemons, humour, strange plot,
major UST.
###
Heero's apartment had a not-so-spectacular view of an alley and a brick wall. He kept his curtains drawn almost constantly, except for in summer when the rooms got stuffy. Only the bathroom and living room had windows, all of which had the same wonderful view. The kitchen and bedroom were miniscule, but Heero spent most of his time in the living room anyway - because that was where his computer was. And that was where he was when Quatre started banging on his door.
"I know you're in there! I can hear you typing!"
Heero stopped typing.
"I know you bailed on Relena last night!"
Heero still felt guilty for having left her, but it wasn't his fault. Not really, anyway. He couldn't help it if his brain went into over drive every now and then.
"Open this door!"
Heero started typing again.
"I'll break it down if you don't!"
Heero snorted at the image of the 5'4" effeminate man attempting to do so. The banging continued. Heero decided that he would go for a shower, and then open the door. Mostly because he hoped that Quatre would be gone by then, but also because he needed time to formulate an excuse, other then 'my brain froze', for why he had ran away from what could have been his first date in two years. In Heero's book, 10 minutes together didn't count as a date.
When Quatre was still knocking (no longer banging, at least) on the door after a ten minute shower, Heero escaped via the bathroom window, and was thankful that his apartment was on the first floor.
###
Heero had walked around for a good hour before he decided that confronting the proverbial bee’s nest that was Quatre should not be put off for any longer. He would simply tell him that Relena and he just hadn't clicked, and that he hadn't run away - he had graciously excused himself, just while she had been in the toilet. He had been quite the gentleman in fact, he reasoned, because he had removed all embarrassment on both their halves.
But later that day, when Heero proposed this idea to him Quatre didn't believe a word of it.
"That's not what Relena told me!" Quatre disagreed while sorting tie pins. Trowa cleared his throat in a manner that distinctly told Heero not to say a word. He ignored him.
"You've talked to her?" Heero didn't want to know what she had said.
"Of course I have! She phoned me last night saying that she'd lost you. Lost you!" He threw down a pin and placed both his hands on the counter. "I cannot believe you, Heero. You finally let me set you up with a perfectly decent girl and you go and ruin it. I should have guessed you'd run out."
"I didn't run out ..." Heero mumbled half heartedly. Quatre rolled his eyes.
"I know, you just left while she was in the ladies room. Trowa, tell him," Quatre demanded. Trowa gave him a bemused look and shrugged.
"What? Tell him what? That he shouldn't have run out? He knows that, Quatre."
"Alright, then you can learn from your mistake and not run out on her next time around," Quatre said. He was already reaching for the phone.
"No! I'm not going on another date with her!" Heero paled at the idea of sitting across from a woman who knew he was a coward.
"What do you mean? Of course you are. She thinks you're fantastic," he added, as if it would win Heero over entirely.
"We talked for 5 minutes! No - /she/ talked for 5 minutes!" Heero was ready to tackle Quatre to the ground if he lifted the receiver and called Relena to reschedule.
"Alright, fine," Quatre said, moving away from the phone. "Find your own girlfriend, I don't care. I need more tie pins." He walked out of the room and into the store room.
Heero sighed and deflated into one of the plush royal blue armchairs sitting at a right angle to the counter. He looked out of the front window and noticed that the sign was still peeling.
"You haven't got it fixed, have you?" Heero asked, nodding towards the window. The window was embossed with the words 'Barton & Winner' and underneath, 'Quality Menswear for Grooms to be' except some of the more vital letters were missing.
Trowa shook his head and leant off of the wall behind the counter.
"They can't send anyone for two weeks." Quatre came out of the store room carrying a small box of tie pins.
"By then all it'll say is 'Quality Men for Grooms to'. Who's going to want to buy from us then? Everyone'll think we're a brothel." Quatre resumed sorting the pins.
"Stop griping," Trowa said, kissing him on the side of the head and moving past him. "I'm making coffee, who wants some?" he called from the kitchen.
"Not me, it puts me in a bad mood," Quatre said.
###
Heero liked to sleep late on Tuesday's.
Since he worked for himself, he was allowed to designate his own holidays and workdays, and he had followed the same routine for the past three years. He had a five day working week, like most people. He was up at 8am every Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, which left him two days to soak up all of the laziness his body managed to generate on his working days. He tried to be strict with himself, and ensured that he worked a minimum of 9 hours a day, with as many coffee and tea and lunch breaks as he so pleased.
Life was just that much easier when there was no one there to boss you around. Of course, this is assuming that Quatre does not exist.
At 10am, with an hour of sleeping still allotted on Heero's body clock, Quatre started knocking on his door again. Whether he had momentarily forgotten Heero's 'off' days, or whether he just didn't care was beside the point in Heero's book. He had to admit though, that it would be impossible to sleep while the short blond was banging on his door. He fell out of bed, opened his eyes enough to make his way across the room and through the door, towards the front door and opened it. With that done he went right back the way he'd come and crawled back under the still deliciously warm duvet.
"What are you doing?" Quatre asked from the bedroom doorway.
"Sleeping," Heero said into his pillow, trying to sink himself into the bed, and therefore back into sleep.
"Well you can't. Get up." Quatre started knocking on the bedroom door. Heero wanted to hurt him.
"Five more minutes," he said with a barely concealed growl. Quatre grunted in assent and left.
###
Heero managed to half bargain half intimidate an extra ten minutes out of Quatre after the initial five (which Heero was sure had been cut short), but eventually he had to get up. He showered and dressed while brewing a horrendous mood that he hoped he would be able to take out on Quatre.
Quatre, of course, was oblivious to this. He was sitting on Heero's expensive looking leather couch, and was flicking through a computer magazine that was at least three months old. He threw it down when Heero emerged from the bedroom toweling his hair dry and glaring for all he was worth.
"Finally," Quatre sighed. "Have some breakfast, we have to go shopping." Heero tossed the damp towel next to Quatre on the couch and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I don't need to go shopping," he said. He would not cave in and end up trailing after Quatre like a tame puppy. He had tried to defend himself against Quatre's naturally obnoxious nature before, but had failed miserably. Possibly, with a little bit of luck and only a very small miracle, he would succeed this time.
"I know /you/ don't, but Milliardo needs a birthday present and I want to get him something big, so I need you to help me carry it home." Which translated to: ‘I’m small and weak, please do all of the heavy lifting while I stand by and order you around?’
"His birthday isn't until next week." Heero was certain this was true. He looked at the calendar hanging above his computer in the corner of the room, but was too far away to see any of the neat, cramped writing in the small boxes.
Quatre sighed loudly. "I /know/ that! But his /party/ is tonight, I told you weeks ago!" He stood up and went to get his coat from the hook next to the door.
"No you didn't." Quatre put his coat on.
"Oh. Well I am now. Are you coming?" he asked rhetorically.
Heero went to get his coat.
###
Heero worked off of the simple idea that anything that takes over four hours to complete, and is not computer related, is not worth starting in the first place. Shopping would be one of those untouched parts of life. Food shopping was manageable - he bought the same food every week. Clothes shopping was done through a computer and paid for via credit card. He never had a random 'need' to shop, or an urge to buy something 'just because'. But Quatre did. Quatre shopped like it was going out of fashion, and also in slow motion. He took a good twenty minutes on each shop, often only to reject all items and move onto the next unsuspecting department store. He was also sidetracked /very/ easily. More than once Heero had to almost physically remind him why they were there, and Quatre eventually found the perfect gift for Milliardo (a large and heavy faux leather wingback armchair, that would apparently go perfectly behind his monstrosity of a desk). Heero didn't know that much about interior design, but he knew that taking up a good three meters with a table was ridiculous. But then again, the table was a previous gift from Quatre also.
Heero was thankful that Quatre had nagged Trowa into coming along as well, because without him Heero would have had to somehow carry the chair back to the shop alone, and knowing Quatre he would have insisted on sitting in it while Heero was moving it. Luckily, though, Trowa was there to save the day. Unfortunately, he couldn't save Heero's muscles from aching to high heaven. They both stoically ignored their aches and pains and managed to drag the chair back to what was now 'Quality Men for Grooms'.
"Oh for heaven's sake!" Quatre moaned, upon seeing the peeling sign. "Trowa, we have to do something about that sign," he said, meaning - 'Trowa, you have to do something about that sign'.
Heero resisted the urge to shove Quatre aside instead of waiting for him to move so that they could get inside, and set his side of the chair down as soon as they had crossed the threshold. He made for the door a second later.
"Uh - I don't think so, Mr." Quatre called just as Heero's hand grabbed the door handle. He groaned on the inside. "The party's in an hour, you may as well stay."
"I'm not - I can't stay for the party," he answered, pulling the door open an inch or so, almost hitting the bell at the top.
"Yes you can - and you are." Quatre was looking at himself in the full length mirror across the room, straightening his shirt and tie.
"I can't. I have stuff to do." Heero cringed at the awful excuse.
"Tough. You haven't been out in weeks." Quatre turned around to face him.
"I was out last night!" Heero let go of the door handle and turned as well. Quatre rolled his eyes.
"Oh, it's a miracle, he spent a whole half hour in the outside world," he said as he walked through into the store room.
Heero gave up and slouched down in one of the plush chairs.
###
"Okay, now - Heero - I want you to actually mingle at this party," Quatre told Heero on the way to the hotel, of which one of the most expensive rooms had been rented for Milliardo's party. Heero sat in the backseat of Trowa and Quatre's swish black car. Heero didn't know what make it was, and neither did he care. He could have especially cared less that night, because he didn't want to be in it at all. He was very conscious of the fact that it was too hot in the car, and before he knew it he was worrying about unsightly sweat patches. And then he began to worry that, once at the party, he would spill something on the suit that he had borrowed from Trowa and Quatre's inventory. It was black, so it was doubtful that a stain would be noticeable, but what if Trowa or Quatre did? He'd have to pay for the dry-cleaning. What if it was too badly damaged to even dry clean? What if he had to actually pay the full price of the suit? Heero didn't make that kind of money.
"Heero?" Quatre called, leaning around from the front passenger seat and staring at him. Heero noticed that he was sweating slightly and attempted to look calm and relaxed. Quatre saw right through his attempts and simply smiled lightly and patted him on the knee. "You'll be fine. It's just a party," he said. Heero scoffed on the inside. 'Just a party?' he thought. 'Maybe to you.'
Trowa pulled into the parking lot next to the hotel, which looked like a small mansion, and got out with Quatre. Heero took two deep breaths, remembered to exhale on the second one, and opened the car door.
Heero followed the other two inside, feeling his heart beating uncomfortably fast. His palms were getting sweaty, but he didn't want to wipe them on his trousers because what if someone saw and thought that he was a naturally sweaty man? Heero cringed at the thought. Heero trailed after Quatre as they stopped at the front desk to, presumably, ask where they were supposed to go, and then they walked down a long corridor with closed and fancy looking double doors at the end. Heero could hear the soft pumping of music, which he thought was coming from the room at the end of the corridor. They finally reached it, and Trowa opened the door, stepped inside and disappeared with Quatre. Heero didn't want to follow them. He made a bee-line for the edge of the room, where tables and chairs were set up for people who didn't wish to dance - of which there were few. Heero chose the table in the furthest corner, and therefore in the darkest shadow, and tried to make himself invisible while he checked out the large room and its inhabitants.
There were around two hundred people there, he guessed, and nearly all of them were on the dance floor. There was a buffet running along the side of the room, closest to Heero, and the tables that Heero was sitting at were mostly vacant. Only around 5 of them were in use, and all of them were 4 seaters. Heero scanned the swarming crowd for people that he recognised and glimpsed Milliardo's blond head bobbing somewhere in the middle. He saw the girl that he was dancing with get twirled around and then passed to someone else while he moved onto another. Heero looked away quickly when he thought about which of the girl's would be giving him a birthday present later on. Heero was still trying to forget this thought when Quatre emerged from the crowd with Relena.
Heero sat up straight and gripped the arms of his chair, ready to bolt, but they were too close for him to do so.
"Heero!" Quatre shouted over the music. He was grinning as though he was doing Heero a huge favour. "Look who I found!" Relena giggled, but the noise was completely lost in the roar of the music. She was looking at Heero through lowered eyelashes, in an obvious attempt to appear demure and sweet, but the dress that she was wearing ruined the effect. It was a pink halter neck number that came just above her knee, and which was so low-cut Heero was sure that, if it had extended 4 or 5 inches lower, he would have been able to see Relena's navel.
"Well! You two have fun then!" Quatre winked at Heero and left, plucking a glass of clear liquid off of the tray of a passing waiter as he went.
Even with the loud music, there was a deadly silence between Heero and Relena that settled as soon as Quatre had left. Heero was still gripping the arms of his chair, and was still tensing all of his muscles, as though ready to run again - which he was. Relena walked around the table and pulled out the chair next to him. Heero actually raised himself very slightly off of the chair.
"Hi!" Relena shouted, leaning uncomfortably close to Heero. "I'm really sorry about last night!" Heero was confused. She was apologising for him running out? He lowered himself back onto the chair - if she was going to apologise for his mistake, he didn't need to run so urgently. "I'm so sorry that you didn't think we clicked! I must have been talking too much!" Heero opened his mouth to say 'it's alright', but she continued, and leant closer at the same time so that she was well inside his personal space. "But you know, I can try harder! I could be the best you ever had if you just let me try!" she shouted. Heero realised that he was grimacing. His eyes flickered down towards her chest when he felt her breasts brush up against his arm. He froze. He looked back up at her face and stared. She lunged in for a kiss, and Heero jumped up so fast he was sure he had hit her accidentally.
"I, er-!" he managed before he turned and ran, for the second time in two days.
Heero was physically pushing people aside in his mad dash for an exit. He couldn't see any doors, or any windows, or anything other than people. He was starting to panic. He could feel his breathing getting shallow and slowed down, hugging the wall as he slowed to a fast walk along the outer rim of the room.
"Heero!" he heard someone call, but only just. He turned his head and saw Relena coming at him. His legs started up again without his brain even asking, and he was running again before his eyes could even part with the image of Relena bouncing towards him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that she was closing in, but a second later he had run full tilt into someone.
He heard the other person grunt as he collided with them, and grabbed at the person's shoulder to stop himself from falling over. The individual managed to hold him upright with a helping hand and, as Heero turned to say thank you, he saw that it was the busboy from the alleyway. The other man looked equally surprised.
"What are you-!" Heero began, feeling his heartbeat slow.
"Heero!" Relena shouted, much closer this time. He looked forwards and saw her standing right in front of him. "Why did you run away?!" His heartbeat sped up again.
"Relena- I - I'm-!" Heero stammered, almost feeling his knees knocking because the woman made him so nervous.
"Who's this?!" Relena asked, looking at the man. Heero realised that he was still gripping the man's shoulder, and that the busboy alike still had his own arm around his waist. He went to free himself but the grip around his waist tightened suddenly.
"I'm Duo Maxwell!" the man said, holding out his free hand. "His boyfriend!