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"Heero the Muse"Written By: Emerald Pillow
Pairings: 3x1x3 Summary: Trowa is a writer in his spare time. Heero hasn't read any of Trowa's works but is curious to do so. Trowa , on the other hand, doesn't particularly want Heero to read what he writes as he has some dark secret lurking in the text of his books. Rating: R Heero the Muse
Chapter 1
"You okay?" He asked causally, and Trowa nodded. "Why wouldn't I be?' Before Heero could answer, the clerk reclaimed their attention. "Here we go. Room 315." The clerk smiled and laid a piece of paper on the counter. "I need you to sign here, and will you be paying cash or credit card?" "Isn't there another room?" Trowa wonder, his pen poised over the 'X' that his signature was suppose to follow. The clerk's eye brow furrowed and she looked at the screen again. "One room with two beds. Isn't that what you wanted?' "No. It was suppose to be two rooms with one bed." The girl returned her attention to the computer again. "Well, that's what the computer says. I can check to see if there's another room available for the weekend." "Thanks." Trowa side glance to see Heero's reaction to this information. Like always, he remained stoic. They waited in silence as the clerk searched the screen for resolution. "I'm sorry." She stated solemnly. "It appears that we're completely booked with the anime convention going on in the next town over, and a lot of people reserved rooms here too. Not to mention the writer's convention." Trowa closed his eyes as she spoke. Though he appeared frustrated, he was actually relieved. "If you don't mind terribly sharing, then we'll do what we can to get another room for you as soon as possible." Trowa looked back at his friend for a reply. Heero shrugged nonchalantly, not really caring either way, and Trowa signed the slip. After paying and receiving the room keys, the two headed for the elevators. "I'm sorry about this." Trowa spoke softly once they were alone in the empty elevator. "Don't worry about it." It wasn't the situation that brought the apology, but the guilt of lying to Heero. The truth was that when Trowa had reserved the room, he requested only one. He just didn't want Heero to know this. The doors opened and they followed the numbers to their room. It wouldn't be the first time that they have shared a room, and secretly, Trowa hoped it wouldn't be the last. There was a calm understanding they shared that placed him at ease. It was something he never felt with anyone else. Heero opened the door to allow him in first. The room was faintly lit by the light from the hallway. Trowa found the light switch easily, and flicked it on. The new light didn't help much. It wasn't until Heero threw open the heavy curtains to allow sunshine to spill into the room that enough light was given to see properly. No longer seeing the need, he turned off the lamp. "It's kinda quite." "What'd you expect from a hotel?" Trowa questioned as he sat on the edge of his bed and laid on his back. "I was expecting some sort of noise." Heero explained and placed his bag in the closet. "Well, if it gets warm enough later, then you'll be hearing a lot of noise." As he spoke, Heero looked through the picture window to find an outdoor pool below. With it being April, the weather was getting warmer. That meant that people would crowd around the pool. Heero nodded his understandment, knowing that Trowa was staring at him. In fact, the Latin had been doing that a lot lately. So many thoughts ran through Trowa's mind as he watched Heero silhouetted against the sunlight. So many things he wanted to do or say, but couldn't find words or actions. There wasn't any time to find them as a knock was heard on their door. Pushing to his feet, Trowa walked over to the door to open it. "Why are you late?" The unfamiliar voice brought Heero's attention from the pool. A blonde haired woman entered the room quickly, Trowa behind her. "I'm here, aren't I?" Trowa rhetorically asked. "Why didn't you call me when you. . .who is this?" Her green eyes soaked in Heero's frame. "This is Heero." "Friend of yours?" She asked, leaning slightly toward Trowa, and lowering her tone. "He's a hunk." "I am in the room." Heero snapped, not liking the ideal of being talked about as if he wasn't there. "I'm sorry. I forgot my manners." She walked over to him, extending her hand. "I'm Jamie Adkins, Trowa's editor." Heero only stared at her hand in silence. "Uh-yeah. Any ways. . ." She spun around, her shoulder length hair whipping behind her. "Trowa, please don't forget that the conference starts at eight tomorrow. Everyone will be thrilled to see you." "I'll be there." He assured and opened the door for her to leave. Taking the hint, she headed toward the exit. Half way through, she stopped and spun to face him. "Don't forget, I still need work from you." Trowa nodded, waiting for her to leave. "You'll need 650 pages by Monday. Don't forget." "I won't." Jamie gave a quick glance at Heero. "He does have his own room? Right? He's not going to interfere with your writing, is he?" With that, he gave her a light starting push, and closed the door behind her. "Interfere?" Heero wondered as Trowa locked the door and reclaimed his spot on the bed. "I can't write when I'm around people. I'm not sure why, but it just blocks my thoughts." "What happens if you don't meet your quote by time?" Trowa only smirked and shook his head. "Maybe I should leave you alone for a while." "No. It's okay. I usually write at night. You'll be okay. . .really." Heero studied his friend closely. Trowa only had two books out since the war's end, though Heero never really read them, the awards they won clearly stated the quality. It wasn't that Heero didn't want to read his friend's materials. It was just that he could never find the books so that he could. Usually they stayed sold out at stores, or borrowed at the library. Then there was the fact that Heero worked a lot and didn't really have time to read them. Thinking of this, he made it a point to sit down and read one, if not both, this weekend. "Do you have a copy of one of your books handy?" Heero questioned suddenly, causing Trowa to sit up straight. "No, why?" "I wanted to read it." "You're not really missing anything." Trowa attempted to sound causal, but in fact, he was starting to tense. "It's not exactly your type of reading material." "Still, I'd like to give it a try. You are my friend after all." Trowa swallowed hard, and hoped Heero hadn't noticed. "I'll get you one before the weekend's over." He stated and turned from Heero's gaze. Maybe by the end of the weekend, something would happen between them. Then Trowa wouldn't be so nervous about letting Heero read what he was working on presently. Trowa's left eye brow arched as he witnessed Heero snatch the green sign from the card lock on a door they had pass. It was the fourth one that they had come across since they started exploring the hotel. It, like the previous three, was placed into the front pocket of Heero's jeans. "Why are you doing that?" Trowa couldn't keep his curiosity quite any longer. "What?" "Taking the privacy signs from the door." "Why not?" Trowa just shook his head at the answer. They continued to the end of the hall and descended the stairwell to the first floor. They had only stepped into the hall when they noticed a young girl waiting for the elevator. She eyed them a moment before her golden orbs enlarged. "Oh my God!!! You're him!" She squealed and pointed at Trowa. "You're Nanashi." Trowa suddenly felt uncomfortable. He wasn't use to someone getting so excited at seeing him. "I love your books! You're such a wonderful writer! Can I have your autograph?" She looked down at her bag to search for a pen and paper. "I know I have a pen here. I just need to find. . .it?" When she finally found what she was looking for, she looked up to find that they were gone. Trowa relaxed against the wall of their room. He thought that only actors and musicians got fans like that. He never thought that writers were that famous. Heero studied his friend a moment, a little surprised. He never expected Trowa to act as he had. "You're going to have to get use to that." Heero stated matter-of-factly. Trowa looked up at his friend. He knew Heero was right. "You'll be getting a lot of that tomorrow." "I guess I haven't thought of that. I didn't think that writers had such enthusiastic fans." "You'll get all kinds." Trowa slumped down to a sitting position as he thought about that. His whole life, he had been alone, overlooked, and gone unnoticed. Having people notice and wanting to talk to him was a huge change. "You'll stay by me this weekend, won't you?" "Yeah." "Then I guess I'll survive this." Heero kneeled next to his friend to stare into his face. "Let's get out of here for a little while. Something tells me that you'll need as much time being yourself as possible to make it through." "Let's just order something and watch a movie." Pushing to their feet, Heero headed toward a desk that sat against the wall, while Trowa crashed onto the bed. He allowed his eyes to trace Heero's perfect frame as he searched the desk for a room service menu. "What exactly are your books about?" Heero wondered as he leaned against the desk to study their options. "Believe me, you'll hear enough about them this weekend. I don't want you to get sick of the subject before schedule." As he spoke, he closed his eyes and his mind began to wander. They were finally alone. Miles from the town, no one to interrupt. Nash's eyes gleamed with the lust of neglect as he joined his lover on the bed. His strong hand caressed. . . "Trowa." The Latin looked into cobalt. "Did you just fall asleep?" "No. I was thinking." "It looked like you were sleeping." Heero smiled wryly. "What were you saying?" "Burger and fries sound good?" "It's fine." After placing the order, Heero lounged on his own bed and stared at the ceiling. "Didn't you bring playing cards?" Trowa asked after a moment of silence. "Yeah." "Let's play a game of rummy." Heero stood and walked over to his bag. Picking it up, he unzipped the smaller pocket to produce a pack of cards. Unsheathing the cards, he sat on Trowa's bed and began to shuffle. "What are we going to?" Trowa shrugged and sat up. "I guess 1200 is good." Trowa leaned the short length to the desk to pull a small note pad and pen. He wrote their names at the top while Heero dealt the first hand. "Just for fun, do you want to place something at stake?" "Like what?" "Damnit woman! I told you to bring me a beer!" Both Heero and Trowa looked at the wall behind Heero. It was where the deeply vulgar voice streamed from. "Hell Bill, it's right there." "That one's empty. I need another." The yelling continued for the next several minutes. Each flung their vulgar insults toward the other in louder tones than before. Though Heero and Trowa continued with their game, they both gave note to the words exchanged between their neighbors. Finally, all grew calm and full attention was given back to the game. "We never established what we were playing for." Heero reminded as he made a spread of three threes. Trowa stared at the cards a moment before shaking the thoughts from his head. "Well. . ." There was a loud knock at the door. Both figured that it was room service delivering their meal. Slightly disappointed, and a little relieved, Trowa placed his cards face down on the blankets and set out to answer the door. Pulling it open, revealed an over weight middle aged man. He was clean cut, but his receding hairline proved his age. He was dressed in a pair of baggy sweat pants that his beer belly hung loosely over. "Sorry fer buggin' you folks, but I was wonderin' ifn' you had one of those privacy signs we could use. You see, me and my old lady had this fallin' out and we made up, so now we wanna make some whoopee to finalize it." Trowa stared at the man while he spoke. It wasn't the appearance or the accent, but the fact of what was just said. "Bill, you tellin' people about our lovin' life agin?" A woman's head poked from the room next door. Judging by her double chin, and height of where her head appeared, Trowa guessed she shared the same built as her husband, short and chunky. Suddenly, her hazel eyes lit up and she emerged from the room, blessing Trowa with a sight that he could have lived without seeing. "Damnit Betty, ifn' yer gonna come inta the hall, you shoulda at least make yer self decent. Damn woman!" "Aren't you Nanashi?" The woman questioned while walking over to the Latin. "You sure as hell are. You're Nanashi. I can't believe I get ta meet ya before the conference. Yer picture does you no justice at all. . .it sure don't. Bill, look, it's Nanashi." Trowa felt like slamming the door to block them out. Obviously, the giddy girl at the elevator wasn't the only guest staying at the hotel that planned to attend the conference. "Who the hell is Nana Sushi, or whatever you called him?" Bill wondered defensively at his wife's sudden enthusiasm. Betty slapped Bill's arm with a loud thwack that sent his flabby upper arm into motion. "Look, dumbass, his name is Nanashi, not Nana Sushi, and he's one of them writers. Best damn one there is too." At this time, Heero leaned forward enough to see Bill standing in the doorway. Betty, however, had been hidden from sight, since her husband pretty much filled the width of the door frame. He then glanced at Trowa. The ex-pilot looked as if he was ready to blow both of them up, if the means were at his finger tips to do so. "Ifn' he's so great, why ain't I heard of him?" "Because yer too busy reading the sports section before wiping yer ass on it." "Now look woman. . ." "He wrote Parade of Masks and March of Cowls, they're my Bible." "That trashy smut that gets you all riled up?" "Here." Trowa interrupted flatly and slipped the privacy sign from their own door. That said, he closed it and leaned against it. "You write smut Trowa?" Heero stated suddenly while trying to keep from laughing. "You didn't tell me that you were a pornographic novelist." "It's not smut. . .it's romance. And I told you that you shouldn't have taken the privacy signs." Heero only laughed as Trowa reclaimed his spot on the bed. "No you didn't." "Well I was thinking it." "You lasted longer this time." "I guess shock paralyzed me." "That you're so popular all of a sudden?" "No. The fact that Betty was wearing a tong and see through bra." Heero seemed confused a moment. At that moment, there was another knock. "You go this time." Trowa blurted too quickly. Finding amusement in the recent events, Heero did as requested. Just as he reached the door, he heard a loud voice claiming room service. Relieved, Trowa slid off the bed as Heero pulled the door open. Thankfully, a uniform clad boy stepped into the room and set the tray on the dresser. Trowa paid for the meal while Heero surveyed the contents to make sure it was right. After claiming his change, he allowed the boy out. It was while he was leaving that Trowa heard a squeal. Though he had heard it only once before, once had been enough to remember it for a lifetime. "OH MY GOD!!!" Trowa regretfully looked up to find the giddy girl from the elevator. "Your room's next to mine!" Before the boy who brought their dinner could leave, the girl had pushed her way into the room and began taking pictures of everything. "This is soooo awesome. No one's ever going to believe this!" Slightly peeved, Trowa stepped up to her and took the camera. "Do you mind? I'd-" "You touched my camera!" Another squeal emerged before she flung her arms around him in a hug. "You are the best! I'll never forget this trip!" Tears brimmed her eyes as Trowa managed to push her away. "I'm sorry. Sometimes I get a little carried-OH MY GOD!!!!!" Trowa cringed at the peak of this squeal. This time, her attention was given strictly to Heero. "I can't believe it." Her tone soften as her eyes widen in amazement. She took a few advancing steps toward Heero. "It's Nash Holiday in the flesh." Panicking for the first time in his life, Trowa snatched the girl's wrist before her flesh could meet Heero's. He sought out to ask her to leave again, but she cut him off. "I can't believe there's a real live Nash Holiday." Heero's brow furrowed in confusion as he wondered who this 'Nash Holiday' was. "Oh, you guys are playing cards. Are you playing for points, or like what Nash and Eric played for?" At this time, Trowa clamped the girl's mouth shut and started to escort her from the room. Giving one last hard shove, he slammed the door behind her. "Who's Nash Holiday?" Heero wondered while watching Trowa lock the door. "A character from my book. I kinda fashioned him after you." "Looks too?" Trowa nodded. "And Eric?" "The main character." "What were they playing for?" "Blow jobs. Let's eat before it gets cold." "Blow jobs? I thought you said it wasn't smut?" "They didn't do anything; at least I didn't write that they did. Can we eat now?" Silently agreeing, Heero separated the two plates, handing one to Trowa. While they ate, they surfed through the channels for something to watch. Finally, they decided on a Johnny Depp movie. Though he tried to control it, Trowa's mind picked up where Heero had interrupted him. His strong hand caressed the lean frame, wanting to touch the flesh instead of mere denim. He wanted nothing more than to rip the clothes from Eric's body and make love to him like he had in his dreams. Unfortunately, like always, his mind had control of his actions. Once again, he started to pull from Eric, with intentions of not allowing this to go any further. "Don't think." Eric pleaded in one quick breath while pulling Nash closer to him. "Please, for once don't think." Heero sensed something wasn't right. To prove this point, he looked over at Trowa to find the Latin staring at the television screen. Though the emeralds were focused on the movie, Heero knew that Trowa's mind was miles away. Heero looked over at Trowa's luggage. His lap top was still resting in it's personal bag, but not for long as Heero pulled it free. He then set the computer on the bed in front of his friend. This seemed to have snapped Trowa from his thoughts. He looked up at Heero, his visage fogged with confusion. "You need to write 650 pages in three days. Maybe you should start now." With that, Heero headed for the door. "When your thoughts run dry, come to the gym." This was followed by a click, and Trowa was left to his work. ~ * ~
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