When We Were Young 2
25 Dec 2005 12:07 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaigourating: Pg-13 for Trowa's potty mouth
pairing: gee. guess. no, really. fine. 3=4.
warning: go somewhere else if you want blissfully happy.
Not necessarily chronological. Not beta'd (nothing new there), and barely even reread before posting. Just mostly dabbling.
----
When Heero set the coffee mug down before him, Trowa poured in two spoonfuls of sugar, then half the milk. Heero winced, and Trowa waved him away. "I'm not drinking Duo's coffee without something between me and the acidic levels. I'm halfway to a stomach ulcer as it is."
"We're going to the gym later." That was Heero: not really an offer, or a question. Just a flat statement, but Trowa knew what he meant.
"No. I'd probably break the damn' punching bag."
He managed a tight smile for Duo, wandering into the apartment's kitchen with some unknown gadget in his hands. Duo nearly walked into the fridge, then squinted at it, then the gadget, before setting the thing on the countertop and digging around in the fridge for an apple. He started to leave, but Heero snagged him by the shirt. When Duo looked surprised, Heero jerked his head toward the little piece of machinery, which Duo picked up, giving Heero a casual shrug. He left, and Heero returned to giving Trowa his full attention.
"See, that's what I mean," Trowa finally said. He stared down into his coffee, nearly white with milk, and still undrinkable. "Quatre leaves his shit everywhere. I'm not a maid service, I tell him. But we have a maid, he says. And she's not your personal slave, I say. It's not just that she shouldn't have to do everything, but that I don't like living in a pigsty." He grimaced. "Why can't he just pick up his stuff and put it away, without fussing about it for ten minutes?" He stirred another teaspoon of sugar into his cup. "I just wish we could be...more like you two. You always get along, and you're always so--" He stared at the coffee Heero had just spit out across the countertop. "Heero?"
"I'm okay." Heero coughed, thumping himself on the chest, and set the mug down with a solid thunk. "What gave you the notion Duo and I always get along?"
"I..." Trowa glanced over to see Duo leaning against the doorjamb; he now had a gadget in each hand, and a screwdriver behind one ear. "I've never seen you argue," he finally replied, uneasy at Duo's amused look and Heero's bewildered stare.
"Oh, we argue." Duo shrugged, and held up the item in his left hand, frowning at it closely.
"We don't argue," Heero retorted, half to Duo, half explaining to Trowa. "I say something, and Duo goes off for twenty minutes. When he runs out of steam, that's it. I'm not sure that's how normal couples argue." He raised the mug, and mopped underneath it, then wiped the bottom. "Like you and Quatre. You can each get in a word edgewise."
"Hey!" Duo rolled his eyes. "I let you get in plenty of words."
Heero grumbled something inaudible, and shook his head at Trowa. "Tell him you like the place clean."
"I do. Every ten minutes." Trowa leaned back, crossing his arms. He couldn't help feeling uncomfortable, with Duo's even stare practically poking holes in the back of his neck. "Then I just feel like I've turned into my sister, nagging him. And he says we have enough room that if he wants a messy study, he can. But we have too much room! It drives me batshit insane, frankly."
"You're used to small trailers." Heero shrugged.
"It's not like I wanted to live in a shoebox," Trowa retorted. "But I didn't exactly think a three-story penthouse was necessary, either. We have a room dedicated to nothing but watching television, which is ridiculous considering there's a television in the bathroom, one in the bedroom, one in the living room, and another in the kitchen! We have three guest rooms which are nothing but guest rooms. The rest of the time they gather dust."
"Maybe you should rent them out," Duo suggested. He yelped suddenly, and disappeared down the hallway, reappearing a minute later, hastily pulling a coat on. "Late to see Hilde." He swatted Heero on the head from behind, and dashed off. A second later the front door slammed, and Heero gave Trowa a glum look.
"He always slams the door, he's always late, and he never kisses me in front of other people." Heero recited the list in a flat tone, and got up to pour himself more coffee. "At least his coffee is somewhat decent."
"Your scientist did something to your tastebuds, then." Trowa shoved his cup away. "My sister makes better coffee."
"I make worse coffee," Heero pointed out.
"Right." Trowa picked up his mug again. "Maybe we should go for couples' counseling, because I've lived with this for two years. I want to be with him, but I'm not sure I want to be married to him. Not if this is what it'll always be like."
"Get a smaller place, with just one guest bedroom. Make him keep his mess behind a door you can close." Heero glanced toward the empty hallway. "That's what I do with Duo, or we'd be knee-deep in unidentifiable things that haven't worked since the colonies were built."
"It's not just that. It's..." Trowa sighed. "He makes so much fucking money! I know it doesn't bother him that I don't, and I know he sets his salary lower than most of his peers anyway, but it's still quadruple what I make. I feel like I'm some kind of damn kept man."
Heero snorted.
"I do! We go to business dinners and those people treat me like I'm just dallying with the Preventers, passing time before..." Trowa stared intently at nothing in particular, remembering the previous weekend with a scowl. "Like I should stop working and become a house-husband."
"You'd have more time to clean up after him," Heero replied.
"I'd have more time to plot his death for not cleaning up," Trowa shot back.
pairing: gee. guess. no, really. fine. 3=4.
warning: go somewhere else if you want blissfully happy.
Not necessarily chronological. Not beta'd (nothing new there), and barely even reread before posting. Just mostly dabbling.
----
When Heero set the coffee mug down before him, Trowa poured in two spoonfuls of sugar, then half the milk. Heero winced, and Trowa waved him away. "I'm not drinking Duo's coffee without something between me and the acidic levels. I'm halfway to a stomach ulcer as it is."
"We're going to the gym later." That was Heero: not really an offer, or a question. Just a flat statement, but Trowa knew what he meant.
"No. I'd probably break the damn' punching bag."
He managed a tight smile for Duo, wandering into the apartment's kitchen with some unknown gadget in his hands. Duo nearly walked into the fridge, then squinted at it, then the gadget, before setting the thing on the countertop and digging around in the fridge for an apple. He started to leave, but Heero snagged him by the shirt. When Duo looked surprised, Heero jerked his head toward the little piece of machinery, which Duo picked up, giving Heero a casual shrug. He left, and Heero returned to giving Trowa his full attention.
"See, that's what I mean," Trowa finally said. He stared down into his coffee, nearly white with milk, and still undrinkable. "Quatre leaves his shit everywhere. I'm not a maid service, I tell him. But we have a maid, he says. And she's not your personal slave, I say. It's not just that she shouldn't have to do everything, but that I don't like living in a pigsty." He grimaced. "Why can't he just pick up his stuff and put it away, without fussing about it for ten minutes?" He stirred another teaspoon of sugar into his cup. "I just wish we could be...more like you two. You always get along, and you're always so--" He stared at the coffee Heero had just spit out across the countertop. "Heero?"
"I'm okay." Heero coughed, thumping himself on the chest, and set the mug down with a solid thunk. "What gave you the notion Duo and I always get along?"
"I..." Trowa glanced over to see Duo leaning against the doorjamb; he now had a gadget in each hand, and a screwdriver behind one ear. "I've never seen you argue," he finally replied, uneasy at Duo's amused look and Heero's bewildered stare.
"Oh, we argue." Duo shrugged, and held up the item in his left hand, frowning at it closely.
"We don't argue," Heero retorted, half to Duo, half explaining to Trowa. "I say something, and Duo goes off for twenty minutes. When he runs out of steam, that's it. I'm not sure that's how normal couples argue." He raised the mug, and mopped underneath it, then wiped the bottom. "Like you and Quatre. You can each get in a word edgewise."
"Hey!" Duo rolled his eyes. "I let you get in plenty of words."
Heero grumbled something inaudible, and shook his head at Trowa. "Tell him you like the place clean."
"I do. Every ten minutes." Trowa leaned back, crossing his arms. He couldn't help feeling uncomfortable, with Duo's even stare practically poking holes in the back of his neck. "Then I just feel like I've turned into my sister, nagging him. And he says we have enough room that if he wants a messy study, he can. But we have too much room! It drives me batshit insane, frankly."
"You're used to small trailers." Heero shrugged.
"It's not like I wanted to live in a shoebox," Trowa retorted. "But I didn't exactly think a three-story penthouse was necessary, either. We have a room dedicated to nothing but watching television, which is ridiculous considering there's a television in the bathroom, one in the bedroom, one in the living room, and another in the kitchen! We have three guest rooms which are nothing but guest rooms. The rest of the time they gather dust."
"Maybe you should rent them out," Duo suggested. He yelped suddenly, and disappeared down the hallway, reappearing a minute later, hastily pulling a coat on. "Late to see Hilde." He swatted Heero on the head from behind, and dashed off. A second later the front door slammed, and Heero gave Trowa a glum look.
"He always slams the door, he's always late, and he never kisses me in front of other people." Heero recited the list in a flat tone, and got up to pour himself more coffee. "At least his coffee is somewhat decent."
"Your scientist did something to your tastebuds, then." Trowa shoved his cup away. "My sister makes better coffee."
"I make worse coffee," Heero pointed out.
"Right." Trowa picked up his mug again. "Maybe we should go for couples' counseling, because I've lived with this for two years. I want to be with him, but I'm not sure I want to be married to him. Not if this is what it'll always be like."
"Get a smaller place, with just one guest bedroom. Make him keep his mess behind a door you can close." Heero glanced toward the empty hallway. "That's what I do with Duo, or we'd be knee-deep in unidentifiable things that haven't worked since the colonies were built."
"It's not just that. It's..." Trowa sighed. "He makes so much fucking money! I know it doesn't bother him that I don't, and I know he sets his salary lower than most of his peers anyway, but it's still quadruple what I make. I feel like I'm some kind of damn kept man."
Heero snorted.
"I do! We go to business dinners and those people treat me like I'm just dallying with the Preventers, passing time before..." Trowa stared intently at nothing in particular, remembering the previous weekend with a scowl. "Like I should stop working and become a house-husband."
"You'd have more time to clean up after him," Heero replied.
"I'd have more time to plot his death for not cleaning up," Trowa shot back.