"Coffee?" (1xRx3, PG-13, teeny-weeny bit of humor)
Posted: Fri Feb 11, 2005 11:06 am
A/N: I edited this again and again, and I'm still not completely satisfied. Er, I've been too lazy to send it to my beta, to tell the truth. Plus, the ending sucks. ;_; I'm not completely sure if threesomes are allowed here, but I do remember that Silent Moon Sphinx mentioned that is.
Plus, there really is no interaction between Heero and Trowa. Only between Heero and Relena, and then Heero and Trowa. Nothing else. I swear. [/mindless rambling] So on the fic, comments muchly appreciated.
ETA: After a few months, it's only then that I notice that I put in that 'there is no internation between Heero and Trowa'. And then I write 'only between Heero and Relena, and Heero and Trowa'. My God. I meant Trowa and Relena, of course. o_O
ETA 2: AND then I put in 'internation'. -_-;; Can someone please check my head? I think I must've hit it rather hard the last time I tangled in a fight...
"Coffee?"
I don?t live in a mansion. Hate the bloody things, as a matter of fact. Plus, it really scares me to have thirteen bathrooms, like my brother has in his own manor. Well, it?s only fair, I suppose, since he and Noin have just seven kids, and Hilde and Duo, who moved in with them just three months ago, have three of their own. And, let me tell you, there isn?t really a day in the Peacecraft/Maxwell mansion when a toilet isn?t blocked from the toddlers flushing stuffed bunnies down the crapper. So the thirteen bathrooms thing is a must, I suppose.
No, I live in a house. A small house that looks like it?s an interior decorator?s worst nightmare, but a house nevertheless. The horrible wallpaper and shag carpet aren?t much of a hindrance to my eating, sleeping, or working habits, so I really can?t complain, although it sometimes makes me want to puke.
Heero and Trowa, my personal bodyguards, live across the street from me. Milliardo thought it improper to have them in the same house as I do, so he forced me into this horrible excuse of an accommodation and let them have the quaint cream-painted two-bedroom house across the road.
Hmph. Who says that being the Queen of the World has its privileges? Far as I?m concerned, it certainly hasn?t shown any perks. Maybe they mean the bodyguards.
And my brother?s excuse? ?You were the one who wanted a plain old house to live in.?
Which I couldn?t really argue with, but still, I wanted a house, for God?s sake, not something that resembles a poisonous toadstool with a chimney, door, and windows.
Anyway, a couple months ago, I started to hang out with Heero and Trowa more than ever, not just because I hated what I was supposed to call my home and because the tasteless wallpaper was starting to wreck my concentration, but also because I found Heero and Trowa pleasurable company. Sometimes, when I come home from work, I go directly to their house and find that Trowa had prepared a hot bath for me and Heero had cooked up some lasagna.
It?s just so?sweet, you know? Who wouldn?t want to hang out with men like that?
Today was one of those days, except Heero was away at work and Trowa insisted on staying with me while I lounged in the bath. He was seated in the corner, reading a book with mild absorption and occasionally reprimanding me for sloshing water over the edges and onto the immaculately clean floor. He didn?t seem too mad, though; I caught him staring at me a few times with a smile on his face, but he?d always shook his head and returned to his reading when I asked what was wrong.
Then, finally, when I was smoothing soap over my thighs for what seemed like the seventh time, he spoke.
?You really should move in, you know.?
I looked up, startled, and dropped the soap into the bubbles. Damn, I was going to have a hard time finding that. ?What?? I asked, distractedly scrabbling around for the bar.
?You heard me.? He reclined back in his seat, looking amused. ?I said I think that you should move in.? Funny how the way his eyes glimmered in the dim light made my heart skip a beat. ?You?d be safer that way, so that you don?t have to call next door every time you?re being kidnapped by a mad delegate.?
I laughed, a little incredulously. ?But?isn?t that a little?I don?t know, unworkable? For one thing, my brother doesn?t want me to live with two men when I don?t have any up-close-and-personal relationships with them?? I shrugged apologetically, ?and I don?t really think that we have anything other than a business relationship.?
?We?re friends,? he reminded me.
I snorted and drew my ankles up to my bare chest. ?Try telling that to my brother. He doesn?t think the social status of friends is going to be enough to be roommates. Much less permanent roommates, which I have a hint you?re suggesting.?
?That?s what I?m suggesting.?
?Permanent or not, he won?t agree.?
?Why are you so sure?? He set the book on the floor, face down, and crossed his legs on the stool. I noticed he was wearing furry bunny slippers. How cute. ?Don?t knock the door until you?ve tried it.?
?I?m familiar with the expression.? I returned my attention back to my thighs.
?You?re familiar with a lot of things, I?m sure of that. Relena,? he added, thoughtfully. It isn?t actually too often that a bodyguard and his charge are on first-name basis, is it? I doubted it. Then I wondered if he?d called me that deliberately just to spark this particular train of thought.
Oh, wait. Too confusing. Try relaxing. Save your mind for the stuff at the office.
?You just have a habit of never doing the stuff you?re familiar with,? he remarked next.
I bristled at the comment, making the water move dangerously. ?Might I remind you that I?m willing to try and take this up with my brother any time? I just don?t think he?d say yes.?
?Oh?? He was looked close to laughing now. ?So you will ask??
?Yeah. Yeah, I will.? I tilted my chin up and glared at him. ?If you want me to prove that I actually do stuff. Not just think about them.?
?Which I do.?
?Then I?ll ask him and I?ll prove you wrong.?
?You owe me a kiss if he says yes. And it?s a done deal.? He grinned at the look on my face, but he didn?t apologize. He merely unfolded his long legs and picked up his book from the floor, sending me one last glance before reaching for the doorknob. ?Then I?ll be seeing you?the day after Friday. I have a few things to do tomorrow, so I won?t see you until then. Heero?ll be here, though, so drop by.? Then he was gone.
I sank back into the soapy water and thought long and hard, the water crawling up my chin as I reclined.
It was only when the water reached just below my eyes that I was finally stabbed by realization.
Did I just agree to ask my brother if I could move in with Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton?
Well, yes, apparently, I did.
Men. Manipulating, conniving men. Hmph.
* * * * * *
Work was terrible. I spent half the day shooing several politicians away from vidphone, hanging up on them several times when all they could do was talk about setting a date with me next Saturday, and the next half trying to finish off paperwork. I failed miserably, of course, and it was only on my way to Heero and Trowa?s house that I realized that I hadn?t asked my brother about moving in with them.
Tomorrow, I promised myself wearily. Trowa, after all, hadn?t set a time limit, and he wasn?t even going to be here today.
So no smooth operator. No manipulations. Nothing. Nil. Nada.
Just Heero, me, and an empty house, devoid of all meaningless irritations.
I found myself liking the concept immensely.
* * * * * *
Heero made me dinner.
Whenever it was Trowa?s turn to entertain me while Heero was off doing business, we always ended up ordering Chinese or pizza. Man couldn?t cook with a microwave and one of those packets of corn kernels you can make into popcorn.
But Heero? Now he?s a different story. He can make duck prosciutto, foie gras confit, caviar? And he can actually make a cake from scratch, something which I have a hard time doing ? not without a box of Betty Crocker?s ? plus he makes this incredible sauce that goes with almost anything except ice cream. It tastes horrible with ice cream, he says, and anything that?s horrible for this chef-cum-gourmand, it?s horrible for all of us.
This night though, he kept it simple. Made some spaghetti, took out some wine from the cellar, and warned me not to scratch the silverware or Trowa would have his neck on the line.
?So,? he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin, ?how was your day??
?Mmph,? I replied, my mouth full to bursting with three meatballs and a clump of pasta. He waited patiently for me to finish, taking small sips of his wine and studying me with those bright blue eyes of his. I swallowed and smiled at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
?You still have sauce on your cheek.?
?Oh. Thanks.? I wiped it off with a careless hand. ?My day was horrible. You?d have thought I was the perfect politician, the way everyone kept asking me to do this and that.?
?People think like that about me as well,? he murmured, reaching for the bottle of wine. ?More??
?Yes, please.? I watched as the red liquid swam in my glass. ?They expect it of you, don?t they, Heero? What with you being the Perfect Soldier and all.?
?Yes,? he sighed, resting back in his seat. We said nothing more for a few minutes. I put my head down, and he fiddled idly with the tablecloth. And he broke the silence first. ?Something?s bothering you.?
I looked up, startled, and found his eyes boring holes into my skull. I winced, and he softened his gaze. Didn?t apologize either. Funny how both he and Trowa had that in common?speaking louder without words, I mean. They could do that so much better than I could, I thought vaguely, toying with the stem of my wine glass.
?Ahem. I believe I asked you a question.?
I snapped back to reality and sent him a look. ?It was more like a statement, not a question.?
He shrugged. ?Same difference.?
I settled back in my seat and looked at my glass. ?Trowa asked me to move in.?
?Hmmm? Uh-huh.?
I looked up quickly. He was still studying me very intently, eyebrows drawn together in a look of fierce concentration. His mouth was twisted into a slight frown, lips pursed. He still had hints of an unshaved chin, his hair still in the bed-head state. It was very appealing, actually.
?You?re staring at me,? he accused.
?So are you,? I returned. I gave him an indulgent smile. ?You?re not surprised??
?Oh, not really,? he said. ?He brought it up a few weeks ago.?
?So you?ve both been thinking about it.?
?And we both think it?s a great idea.? Was it just my imagination, or was Heero looking a teeny bit uncomfortable at this point? No, it had to be my imagination: Heero never looked nervous. ?And we both think your brother would have absolutely no objections.?
?Except to the ?roommate-relationship? thing, which, I?m sure, Trowa already told you about.? My eyes narrowed. This was getting extremely interesting.
?That Zechs doesn?t approve of becoming live-ins without a steady personal relationship? Yes, I recall he brought that up yesterday, after you left.? Ok, so I?d dreamed up the part about the nervousness. Now, I could?ve sworn there was a glint in his eye identical to Trowa?s the other night.
Calculating men, ahoy.
?We aim to change that, though.?
Well, that certainly piqued my curiosity. ?What do you plan on doing?? I asked suspiciously, taking my fork and shoveling in a nice amount of spaghetti, so I wouldn?t have to answer to whatever he was going to say next.
He said nothing though, just went ?Hn? in a sort of mysterious way and lounged back, looking extremely pleased with himself. It was a few seconds of my chewing and swallowing before he pointed to his right cheek and said, ?You?ve got some here again.?
Misjudging, I wiped my left cheek and asked, ?Here??
And the glint in his eye sparked to life. ?No.? He moved closer, across the tiny table and face to face, nose to nose, eye to eye with me. His breath smelled slightly of wine, and I suddenly had difficulty breathing. ?Right?here.? And, as he touched my cheek, he caught my lips, pressing his firmly against mine.
I stiffened, but his hand cradled the nape of my neck, drawing me closer, showed me there was nothing to be afraid of. And, steadily, tentatively, I kissed back, like a toddler on its first wobbly steps. He waited, with that patience I?d grown so accustomed to associating him with, until I was ready, and he murmured, told me in a soft slight hum, to open my mouth.
And I did.
It certainly changed everything.
* * * * * *
?Coffee?? Funny. Hadn?t he said that when I?d first met him back in the wars?
I?d known he was there before he?d spoken, known that he?d stood there for half an hour before finally saying a word, but I hadn?t said anything. I?d merely sat there on his stoop and stared at the house I?d lived in, with its peeling bright red paint and curved roof. With my suitcase and duffel bag sitting beside me in a careless heap.
?You planned this,? I found myself saying.
He was silent for a few moments, laughing, I was sure, but then he yanked me up and spun me around to face him. ?Sure I did,? Trowa breathed, just centimeters away from my lips, and his eyes, green and pleasant, suddenly growing darker and more playful by the second. ?And it was worth it, wasn?t it??
?Maybe.? I tried to maintain my cool, but it was a hard thing to do when all you could feel was hard muscle and all you could smell was the scent of shaving cream, and all you could see was an endless stretch of deep green.
?You promised me a kiss.?
?Time you got it, I suppose.? I shrugged, but made no move to inch forward.
He grinned. ?Tease.?
?Scheming asshole.?
?Ok, that does it. You?re going to get what you deserve, but good.? And he crushed his lips to mine in a kiss full of sweet revenge, and I reveled in his taste, his scent, his touch, fingers threading through my hair and down the small of my back to hook around my waist? I moaned, softly, into his mouth, and he made a small noise of triumph.
It was lasted all of a few seconds, to my regret.
?Break it up, will you?? Whoever it was telling us, a little rudely, to stop sucking face, he sounded annoyed.
We did so, and turned to see Heero, standing in the doorway with a not-quite-unfriendly-but-hard-to-place scowl on his face and my bags already in his hands. He looked from my flushed face to Trowa?s pleased one, jerked a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, and offered, ?Coffee??
?You men are obsessed with caffeine.?
?Like women are any better.? Heero turned and marched into the house, with Trowa following close behind. He stopped halfway and turned to look at me.
?Coming?? There was a smirk in his voice, but I ignored it.
?Yeah, in a sec.?
He nodded and disappeared into the shady interior of their house ? now mine as well ? and I looked at my old one with a sigh. I wouldn?t miss its carpet, nor would I miss its wallpaper. What I would miss was the solitary existence I had in it. I shook my head and walked to the door. Shut it.
Men? Solitary existence?
I?d never been more wrong in my life.
And an unexpected smile crossed my face.
Men. Really.
The End
Plus, there really is no interaction between Heero and Trowa. Only between Heero and Relena, and then Heero and Trowa. Nothing else. I swear. [/mindless rambling] So on the fic, comments muchly appreciated.
ETA: After a few months, it's only then that I notice that I put in that 'there is no internation between Heero and Trowa'. And then I write 'only between Heero and Relena, and Heero and Trowa'. My God. I meant Trowa and Relena, of course. o_O
ETA 2: AND then I put in 'internation'. -_-;; Can someone please check my head? I think I must've hit it rather hard the last time I tangled in a fight...
"Coffee?"
I don?t live in a mansion. Hate the bloody things, as a matter of fact. Plus, it really scares me to have thirteen bathrooms, like my brother has in his own manor. Well, it?s only fair, I suppose, since he and Noin have just seven kids, and Hilde and Duo, who moved in with them just three months ago, have three of their own. And, let me tell you, there isn?t really a day in the Peacecraft/Maxwell mansion when a toilet isn?t blocked from the toddlers flushing stuffed bunnies down the crapper. So the thirteen bathrooms thing is a must, I suppose.
No, I live in a house. A small house that looks like it?s an interior decorator?s worst nightmare, but a house nevertheless. The horrible wallpaper and shag carpet aren?t much of a hindrance to my eating, sleeping, or working habits, so I really can?t complain, although it sometimes makes me want to puke.
Heero and Trowa, my personal bodyguards, live across the street from me. Milliardo thought it improper to have them in the same house as I do, so he forced me into this horrible excuse of an accommodation and let them have the quaint cream-painted two-bedroom house across the road.
Hmph. Who says that being the Queen of the World has its privileges? Far as I?m concerned, it certainly hasn?t shown any perks. Maybe they mean the bodyguards.
And my brother?s excuse? ?You were the one who wanted a plain old house to live in.?
Which I couldn?t really argue with, but still, I wanted a house, for God?s sake, not something that resembles a poisonous toadstool with a chimney, door, and windows.
Anyway, a couple months ago, I started to hang out with Heero and Trowa more than ever, not just because I hated what I was supposed to call my home and because the tasteless wallpaper was starting to wreck my concentration, but also because I found Heero and Trowa pleasurable company. Sometimes, when I come home from work, I go directly to their house and find that Trowa had prepared a hot bath for me and Heero had cooked up some lasagna.
It?s just so?sweet, you know? Who wouldn?t want to hang out with men like that?
Today was one of those days, except Heero was away at work and Trowa insisted on staying with me while I lounged in the bath. He was seated in the corner, reading a book with mild absorption and occasionally reprimanding me for sloshing water over the edges and onto the immaculately clean floor. He didn?t seem too mad, though; I caught him staring at me a few times with a smile on his face, but he?d always shook his head and returned to his reading when I asked what was wrong.
Then, finally, when I was smoothing soap over my thighs for what seemed like the seventh time, he spoke.
?You really should move in, you know.?
I looked up, startled, and dropped the soap into the bubbles. Damn, I was going to have a hard time finding that. ?What?? I asked, distractedly scrabbling around for the bar.
?You heard me.? He reclined back in his seat, looking amused. ?I said I think that you should move in.? Funny how the way his eyes glimmered in the dim light made my heart skip a beat. ?You?d be safer that way, so that you don?t have to call next door every time you?re being kidnapped by a mad delegate.?
I laughed, a little incredulously. ?But?isn?t that a little?I don?t know, unworkable? For one thing, my brother doesn?t want me to live with two men when I don?t have any up-close-and-personal relationships with them?? I shrugged apologetically, ?and I don?t really think that we have anything other than a business relationship.?
?We?re friends,? he reminded me.
I snorted and drew my ankles up to my bare chest. ?Try telling that to my brother. He doesn?t think the social status of friends is going to be enough to be roommates. Much less permanent roommates, which I have a hint you?re suggesting.?
?That?s what I?m suggesting.?
?Permanent or not, he won?t agree.?
?Why are you so sure?? He set the book on the floor, face down, and crossed his legs on the stool. I noticed he was wearing furry bunny slippers. How cute. ?Don?t knock the door until you?ve tried it.?
?I?m familiar with the expression.? I returned my attention back to my thighs.
?You?re familiar with a lot of things, I?m sure of that. Relena,? he added, thoughtfully. It isn?t actually too often that a bodyguard and his charge are on first-name basis, is it? I doubted it. Then I wondered if he?d called me that deliberately just to spark this particular train of thought.
Oh, wait. Too confusing. Try relaxing. Save your mind for the stuff at the office.
?You just have a habit of never doing the stuff you?re familiar with,? he remarked next.
I bristled at the comment, making the water move dangerously. ?Might I remind you that I?m willing to try and take this up with my brother any time? I just don?t think he?d say yes.?
?Oh?? He was looked close to laughing now. ?So you will ask??
?Yeah. Yeah, I will.? I tilted my chin up and glared at him. ?If you want me to prove that I actually do stuff. Not just think about them.?
?Which I do.?
?Then I?ll ask him and I?ll prove you wrong.?
?You owe me a kiss if he says yes. And it?s a done deal.? He grinned at the look on my face, but he didn?t apologize. He merely unfolded his long legs and picked up his book from the floor, sending me one last glance before reaching for the doorknob. ?Then I?ll be seeing you?the day after Friday. I have a few things to do tomorrow, so I won?t see you until then. Heero?ll be here, though, so drop by.? Then he was gone.
I sank back into the soapy water and thought long and hard, the water crawling up my chin as I reclined.
It was only when the water reached just below my eyes that I was finally stabbed by realization.
Did I just agree to ask my brother if I could move in with Heero Yuy and Trowa Barton?
Well, yes, apparently, I did.
Men. Manipulating, conniving men. Hmph.
* * * * * *
Work was terrible. I spent half the day shooing several politicians away from vidphone, hanging up on them several times when all they could do was talk about setting a date with me next Saturday, and the next half trying to finish off paperwork. I failed miserably, of course, and it was only on my way to Heero and Trowa?s house that I realized that I hadn?t asked my brother about moving in with them.
Tomorrow, I promised myself wearily. Trowa, after all, hadn?t set a time limit, and he wasn?t even going to be here today.
So no smooth operator. No manipulations. Nothing. Nil. Nada.
Just Heero, me, and an empty house, devoid of all meaningless irritations.
I found myself liking the concept immensely.
* * * * * *
Heero made me dinner.
Whenever it was Trowa?s turn to entertain me while Heero was off doing business, we always ended up ordering Chinese or pizza. Man couldn?t cook with a microwave and one of those packets of corn kernels you can make into popcorn.
But Heero? Now he?s a different story. He can make duck prosciutto, foie gras confit, caviar? And he can actually make a cake from scratch, something which I have a hard time doing ? not without a box of Betty Crocker?s ? plus he makes this incredible sauce that goes with almost anything except ice cream. It tastes horrible with ice cream, he says, and anything that?s horrible for this chef-cum-gourmand, it?s horrible for all of us.
This night though, he kept it simple. Made some spaghetti, took out some wine from the cellar, and warned me not to scratch the silverware or Trowa would have his neck on the line.
?So,? he said, wiping his mouth on a napkin, ?how was your day??
?Mmph,? I replied, my mouth full to bursting with three meatballs and a clump of pasta. He waited patiently for me to finish, taking small sips of his wine and studying me with those bright blue eyes of his. I swallowed and smiled at him, and the corner of his mouth twitched.
?You still have sauce on your cheek.?
?Oh. Thanks.? I wiped it off with a careless hand. ?My day was horrible. You?d have thought I was the perfect politician, the way everyone kept asking me to do this and that.?
?People think like that about me as well,? he murmured, reaching for the bottle of wine. ?More??
?Yes, please.? I watched as the red liquid swam in my glass. ?They expect it of you, don?t they, Heero? What with you being the Perfect Soldier and all.?
?Yes,? he sighed, resting back in his seat. We said nothing more for a few minutes. I put my head down, and he fiddled idly with the tablecloth. And he broke the silence first. ?Something?s bothering you.?
I looked up, startled, and found his eyes boring holes into my skull. I winced, and he softened his gaze. Didn?t apologize either. Funny how both he and Trowa had that in common?speaking louder without words, I mean. They could do that so much better than I could, I thought vaguely, toying with the stem of my wine glass.
?Ahem. I believe I asked you a question.?
I snapped back to reality and sent him a look. ?It was more like a statement, not a question.?
He shrugged. ?Same difference.?
I settled back in my seat and looked at my glass. ?Trowa asked me to move in.?
?Hmmm? Uh-huh.?
I looked up quickly. He was still studying me very intently, eyebrows drawn together in a look of fierce concentration. His mouth was twisted into a slight frown, lips pursed. He still had hints of an unshaved chin, his hair still in the bed-head state. It was very appealing, actually.
?You?re staring at me,? he accused.
?So are you,? I returned. I gave him an indulgent smile. ?You?re not surprised??
?Oh, not really,? he said. ?He brought it up a few weeks ago.?
?So you?ve both been thinking about it.?
?And we both think it?s a great idea.? Was it just my imagination, or was Heero looking a teeny bit uncomfortable at this point? No, it had to be my imagination: Heero never looked nervous. ?And we both think your brother would have absolutely no objections.?
?Except to the ?roommate-relationship? thing, which, I?m sure, Trowa already told you about.? My eyes narrowed. This was getting extremely interesting.
?That Zechs doesn?t approve of becoming live-ins without a steady personal relationship? Yes, I recall he brought that up yesterday, after you left.? Ok, so I?d dreamed up the part about the nervousness. Now, I could?ve sworn there was a glint in his eye identical to Trowa?s the other night.
Calculating men, ahoy.
?We aim to change that, though.?
Well, that certainly piqued my curiosity. ?What do you plan on doing?? I asked suspiciously, taking my fork and shoveling in a nice amount of spaghetti, so I wouldn?t have to answer to whatever he was going to say next.
He said nothing though, just went ?Hn? in a sort of mysterious way and lounged back, looking extremely pleased with himself. It was a few seconds of my chewing and swallowing before he pointed to his right cheek and said, ?You?ve got some here again.?
Misjudging, I wiped my left cheek and asked, ?Here??
And the glint in his eye sparked to life. ?No.? He moved closer, across the tiny table and face to face, nose to nose, eye to eye with me. His breath smelled slightly of wine, and I suddenly had difficulty breathing. ?Right?here.? And, as he touched my cheek, he caught my lips, pressing his firmly against mine.
I stiffened, but his hand cradled the nape of my neck, drawing me closer, showed me there was nothing to be afraid of. And, steadily, tentatively, I kissed back, like a toddler on its first wobbly steps. He waited, with that patience I?d grown so accustomed to associating him with, until I was ready, and he murmured, told me in a soft slight hum, to open my mouth.
And I did.
It certainly changed everything.
* * * * * *
?Coffee?? Funny. Hadn?t he said that when I?d first met him back in the wars?
I?d known he was there before he?d spoken, known that he?d stood there for half an hour before finally saying a word, but I hadn?t said anything. I?d merely sat there on his stoop and stared at the house I?d lived in, with its peeling bright red paint and curved roof. With my suitcase and duffel bag sitting beside me in a careless heap.
?You planned this,? I found myself saying.
He was silent for a few moments, laughing, I was sure, but then he yanked me up and spun me around to face him. ?Sure I did,? Trowa breathed, just centimeters away from my lips, and his eyes, green and pleasant, suddenly growing darker and more playful by the second. ?And it was worth it, wasn?t it??
?Maybe.? I tried to maintain my cool, but it was a hard thing to do when all you could feel was hard muscle and all you could smell was the scent of shaving cream, and all you could see was an endless stretch of deep green.
?You promised me a kiss.?
?Time you got it, I suppose.? I shrugged, but made no move to inch forward.
He grinned. ?Tease.?
?Scheming asshole.?
?Ok, that does it. You?re going to get what you deserve, but good.? And he crushed his lips to mine in a kiss full of sweet revenge, and I reveled in his taste, his scent, his touch, fingers threading through my hair and down the small of my back to hook around my waist? I moaned, softly, into his mouth, and he made a small noise of triumph.
It was lasted all of a few seconds, to my regret.
?Break it up, will you?? Whoever it was telling us, a little rudely, to stop sucking face, he sounded annoyed.
We did so, and turned to see Heero, standing in the doorway with a not-quite-unfriendly-but-hard-to-place scowl on his face and my bags already in his hands. He looked from my flushed face to Trowa?s pleased one, jerked a shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, and offered, ?Coffee??
?You men are obsessed with caffeine.?
?Like women are any better.? Heero turned and marched into the house, with Trowa following close behind. He stopped halfway and turned to look at me.
?Coming?? There was a smirk in his voice, but I ignored it.
?Yeah, in a sec.?
He nodded and disappeared into the shady interior of their house ? now mine as well ? and I looked at my old one with a sigh. I wouldn?t miss its carpet, nor would I miss its wallpaper. What I would miss was the solitary existence I had in it. I shook my head and walked to the door. Shut it.
Men? Solitary existence?
I?d never been more wrong in my life.
And an unexpected smile crossed my face.
Men. Really.
The End
I like your style.