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"Heero's Dog"Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language Pairings: 1x2, 3x4, Summary: Heero chooses a dog for stress relief and gets everything but, and then he meets Duo. This is about relationships more than dogs, but the title stuck. And he does get a dog. A/N: My thanks go to Waterlily for the excellent
editing and support. The story is told from the point of view of Heero,
Trowa, and at times Wufei. Thank you for reading.
" Heero's Dog" Chapter 2 It was late and Heero was tired, cranky, and his new dog looked up at him with big, soppy, melancholic eyes. "I don't know what your problem is," he'd declared reasonably, keeping his tone even so as to sound comforting—just as Trowa had dictated he should do. He had, in fact, followed every single directive to the letter, and still his new "soul mate" was unhappy. The quivering body, shining eyes, sniffling nose, and pining mewls were not unlike those of his blond human friend begging for sympathy. The ridiculous image of Quatre posing like a puppy, begging, brought a chuckle to his lips, and Wing shut up and looked him in the eyes, alert. "If you're doing this because you are bored and not because you are in distress, then I have no pity for you. What? Is your paw damaged?" The little dog placed his front paw on the cage door and tested it. "It would explain the crying." Heero sighed and unlocked the door. Suddenly, he had both arms loaded with squirming happy dog, "Oh! Stop that! No licking!" His every demand was enthusiastically ignored. He discovered he could snuggle the dog to his chest, allow it one finger to lick at will, and walk around his apartment and all was well. "I can't do this all night. Another hour, possibly." Circle again. "I suppose you are lonely in a new home." He gazed upon his large bed, covers yawning up at him, beckoning him to "come within my warmth". It was too much for him. He sat on the bed and looked at the dog. The dog looked up at him. "I have to sleep, and so do you, not that you appear to be the least bit tired." He leaned back and twisted around, getting a pillow under his head and his feet under the covers. Wing shuffled around to accommodate the new position and eventually to nest in the down comforter encircled by his master's arms. "Don't think you'll get to do this every night," Heero warned him. Wing wouldn't be like Winner's dog, Sandy. Sandy, that spoiled dog! The first time he'd seen her, she shyly hid under Quatre's bed; the next time, she barked possessively, standing her ground, tiny footprint that she took up, from atop of the silk-covered duvet. She owned the place. Not Wing! Trowa's instructions had been clear on that point; she'd been trained to sleep in her portable kennel. Tonight, he had to sleep. He didn't want to disturb his neighbor, either. Tonight was a special case. It wouldn't become a habit, because Heero envisioned sharing his bed with a lover, not a dog, who apparently loved him already. (o) "Go away!" Trowa shoved the wet nose away from his face. "I don't need you annoying me; I've already got... got..." His arm flung to the side, encountering nothing, and reminding him that Duo wasn't there. Still at sea. "Shit." Companionship- as of late he had his animals for that. At the sound of his buzzing cell phone, the business line, he rolled over to the bedside table, pushed aside the socks, and looked at the time. Nine. He hadn't slept in that late in a long time. The phone buzzed again. He answered with, "Bloom's Circus. Can I help you?" "Blooms? Oh, yes, is this the owner, Trowa Barton, I'm speaking to?" "Yeah." "This is Quatre Winner. Remember me? I was in—" "Yeah. You're the cavoodle, I mean, you bought the cavoodle." The cavoodle breed was a mix between a toy poodle & a cavalier spaniel. Quatre and his little dog seemed meant for each other when he'd picked her out. "Yes! She's so special. She brightens my life every day!" "That's good to hear. So... she's doing okay?" "Very! Excellent, or very nearly, in fact, I was hoping I could talk you into a little visit to check one of her ears." "I'd like that, but right now I can't get away for a house call. If you could bring her by—" "I'm in town now. I could meet you at the coffee shop near the "Y" at the highway in, say, ten minutes? It wouldn't take long." That made Trowa think a moment, long enough for Quatre to re-assess what he'd said. "Oh, I'm sorry! That was a bit pushy and presumptuous of me, wasn't it? It is early-ish, isn't it? You could still be in bed, busy at work, about to do something important, and here I am assuming you'll drop everything for me—" "Sure, I could use a short break. Yeah, that would be fine. Ten minutes, then." He'd have to move fast. And feed the animals later. And miss his shower. And not open the shop. And... and... "Get out of my way. C'mon. You'll have to wait a little longer for your breakfast, Big Shot. You and all the rest." If Duo had been there, he could have helped with this, Trowa was thinking; of course, if that were true then he wouldn't be rushing out to meet someone else, a singularly interesting man with pale hair brushing his eyebrows, gorgeous blue eyes, and... he was going to be late! Damn it all. If Duo'd stayed and made the move to the farm house instead of staying at Chang's- why had he done that? He'd wanted to ask him if he wanted to just break it off completely, but he hadn't the nerve in the end, or the heart, or the energy, or something. He was ready to just give up. He missed Duo, but not this. He missed the company. Throwing on clothes carelessly and running out to the car, the one he shared with Duo, barely gave him time to make the appointment. The weather was nice enough that Quatre was sitting outside at a small table, out of the elements and in a pool of sunshine. He was a spot of sunshine, himself, glowing in a soft gold shirt and pale grey slacks, hair catching the rays and sparkling. "Sorry, I'm late." Trowa felt sorry to have missed any of this sight before him. "Don't be," Quatre beamed. "I did get started without you." Trowa's eyes swept the table, taking in the plate of croissants and cup of steaming coffee, latte. He watched as the other man pinched off a bit of pastry and slipped it furtively to the small ball of fluff at his feet. When he looked up, Quatre was studying his face. The concerned expression crinkled into a smile. "I don't usually feed her treats, I'll have you know." Trowa realized he must not appear so serious and turned up the corner of his lips. "Yeah, you do." He chuckled and tipped his head to the shop door. "I'll order and be right back." A few minutes later, Trowa had Sandy on his lap, examining her ears. "No, it's not mites, but you're right, she's been scratching her ears, this one in particular." He sat back massaging the dog while taking a sip of his coffee. "Why would she do that, if she hasn't any ...bugs?" Trowa set his cup down on a napkin; it had been over-filled and Trowa didn't want to make a mess of the space. He was acutely aware of how pristine Quatre appeared and how thrown-together he was. He wasn't used to feeling less than up for the event, whatever that was. "Dry, itchy skin. Come's from indoor heating. She may seem delicate, but she's a dog and likes a romp out of doors, too." "I could start taking her to the dog park," Quatre said, thoughtfully. "There's one with a small dog area, but it's inconvenient to where I work." Hadn't Duo said something like that to him? It had been his excuse for not moving with him out to the house on the Bloom's Circus property. Too far from the port. Sky would have loved the room to run and the other dogs for company, but, no, Duo chose to move in with that closet-case Chang. He didn't understand what fascination Duo had for wide open sea, bumpy waves, and nauseous ups and downs. A nip on his finger brought his attention back to the here and now. "Hey! Stop that!" he warned the naughty dog. He'd been massaging a tad too hard, possibly. Once again, when he glanced about, he found Quatre studying him. "But if it will keep my little Sandy happy and healthy, then I'll just simply make the time. Besides work, I haven't any other important demands on my time." "You don't?" Quatre didn't sigh, but he crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue in a very silly way. "Oh, shit, you were joking. Right." Trowa couldn't help grinning at his own empty-headedness. As heir to the Winner Corporation and family fortune, Quatre must have been pressed every second of every day for his attention. "I'm a little awed that you took this time today." Quatre waved away Trowa's concerns with a half-eaten croissant. "I feel... bogged down by demands," he owned at last, "but part of growing is learning how to allocate work to others and make time for myself. I'm learning. I don't plan to die of a stroke or heart attack when I'm forty." Like his father. Trowa knew about that. The papers had been full of the story and of the young heir taking over. That was a lot of responsibility to load on a young man not yet 25. He was amazing, Trowa thought. "So eat one of these and save me the artery-clogging calories." Trowa laughed as he should and took a croissant. "Yes, sir!" "That's better. I like it when things go my way." Quatre smiled and chuckled. "Who doesn't?" Trowa bit into the pastry. He was feeling pretty good now. He would like to see more of Quatre, expand his friendships. He could invite him to the shop to run his dog with Big Shot! "I was thinking—" Quatre jumped at the sound of his phone's ringtone. "Excuse me," Quatre said, standing and turning aside to speak a minute. When he turned back, Trowa knew what was coming next. Exits he'd had experience with. "I am sorry, Trowa. Believe me? That was a reminder for a meeting I can't miss." "Oh, well, that's to be expected." "I'd like to do this again." Trowa sat up, hand moist, heart pounding with anticipation. He wants to see me again? "-And Sandy's ears should be re-checked, correct?" That wasn't exactly thrilling to hear. "Yeah." Sure thing. Use your dog as an excuse to see me. Why not just say you want to see me again? "Call me when you can spare another moment. I'll do what I can." He wasn't good at dealing with disappointment. "I will." Quatre held his eyes for a moment. "This has been very nice, don't you think?" On the other hand, he seemed interested. Feeling a bit more optimistic, Trowa smiled and agreed with a nod. "Maybe... same place, same time... the day after tomorrow?" Quatre asked as he glanced down at his scheduler. "Sure, put Sandy down for the appointment." Quatre frowned an infinitesimal amount. "I'll say 'Trowa, coffee' and bring Sandy." "Okay." "Bye now!" Trowa watched him leave feeling that in spite of his poor social graces and ineptitude, he'd made inroads, possibly even a friend, at least. A very nice, warm, fuzzy feeling washed over him and he grinned. He hadn't felt that way in a very long time. "Ahem?" A busboy stood at the table. "You done here? You can pay up inside." "Yeah—?" Wait! Had Quatre run off without paying? And it was then that Trowa realized the clever little sneak got a free breakfast AND a date AND free advice on Sandy! "Of all the -." Not bad for the price of a phone call! He barked out a laugh, calculated a tip, and fumbled for his wallet again. (o) "Is it possible that you not stand next to a honking car when you call me?" Heero growled into his phone. He'd begun his day irritated by sleep deprivation. Wing's whimpering in his kennel had continued late into the night, and, of course, once he got what he wanted, Heero's warm bed, everything was fine and he slept. And Heero dropped off, too. Sadly, five hours of sleep wasn't eight hours of sleep. Heero's alarm went off at the same early hour of the morning, regardless of the disruption during the night. On reflection over a tepid mug of instant coffee and bowl of soggy cereal, Heero had a moment's regret about buying the dog. But only a moment. Wing was terribly excited to go on his walk around his new neighborhood. At least Wing seemed to behave on a leash, and when they returned home, he appeared happy to remain in his kennel and seemed a little more subdued. "My turn," Heero told his pet and left the house a second time. A workout at the gym was sure to improve his mood, he hoped. It wasn't long before it was time to clean up and meet his best friend for lunch. And now, starving, Heero stood outside a trendy, new restaurant, frowning at his cell. "Are you on your way or not?" he shouted into the phone, hearing car noise on the other end, still. "I just want to know if I'm eating alone, because I am going inside in the next minute." Quatre sounded apologetic on the other end of the call. "Oh! I'm sorry Heero. There's so much traffic. I'm almost there! I see you!" Heero watched his friend wave and speed-step the rest of the block to the restaurant. He'd been prepared to eat alone, being stood up again, something more to add to his irritability. A table was waiting for them. At least they hadn't had to join the line of rushed-lunchers. The menu combined salads with appetizer-sized servings, which meant if he wanted to fill up he'd have to order twice as much as he ordinarily would. It wasn't any cheaper, just smaller serving sizes. He had to order water, if he wanted any. The waiter didn't automatically bring him a glass. "No!" He did not want his meal served in a paper-thin "wrap". He wanted his bread whole-grained, thickly sliced, and toasted. Quatre sipped at his iced tea. "You're a little touchy today." "I am tired. That damned dog wouldn't go to sleep." "Sweet little Wing? He was probably lonely, Heero." "Right." "I just let Sandy sleep with me and that solved the problem." "Right." "If you don't like this restaurant, we don't have to come here ever again. There's a fried chicken place in the old Mill building that might be more to your liking. I'm meeting a potential there." "I like it fine." Heero toyed with his water glass. "A potential what?" "Boyfriend, Heero." "He have a name?" "He does, but I'm not ready to tell you that yet, not until I feel more...sure. I can't tell how much he likes me; we haven't managed to meet for more than coffee twice. So, I just called him and... we have a dinner date!" Quatre's smile didn't hide the self-satisfied smirk. "He mentioned meeting for something he could sink his teeth into—" "Are you sure he was talking about food?" Heero joked. "Yes." Quatre made a face. "He's not blatant that way. Very nice." Heero shrugged that comment off. Direct could be nice, too. He knew his proper friend appreciated a more gentlemanly approach, though, and let the topic drop. "If the chicken is good, let me know. I'm meeting someone myself." Quatre brightened. "A potential? Does he have the gift of chatter and a touch of sea air in his long, brown hair?" Heero let out a sigh. Why had he ever mentioned that man to his friend? Perhaps if he explained about the man's adoring boyfriend, the one who had greeted him the moment he'd stepped off the ship and onto the wharf, the one who'd helped him knot the rope, securing the ship in place, the one who'd helped carry Duo's bags from the ship to...wherever... into the distance. That boyfriend. "No," Heero answered at last. He thought about Trowa for a few seconds. Not the sea. He had more an air of the barnyard. "He's the strong, silent type. His hair is brown, though." Heero decided that if Quatre was preserving his luncheon date's name, he'd not give his away either. "Oh, well, that sounds nice, too. You know, you could always try contacting him, your boat-man." "Did I mention the boyfriend on hand to meet him looking ready to tear anyone apart who got in his way?" Heero growled. "You're positive it was a boyfriend and not his brother or cousin or something else?" Actually, Heero had just assumed the arm Duo threw over the shoulders of the shorter man held more meaning than just "amiable", not to mention that he'd brought Duo's dog along. And the guy must have cared a lot for Duo, taking care of his dog while he'd been at sea. So, there was affection there. Heero blocked the idea of competing for Duo immediately. He hadn't even been able to find out where he was living, and he had Preventers resources at his disposal. Not wanting to let Quatre get any more involved, he just grunted, "Of course, which is why I'm moving on." Their assorted dishes arrived to provide diversion. They discussed dogs and dog tending until their checks arrived. "I'd love to see Wing. Why not meet at the dog park later this week? There's a small dog ring where Sandy feels safe." "Dog!" Heero rocketed out of his chair. "What time is it?! I have to go! Call me later and we'll schedule it," Heero said in a rush, and hurried home to let his dog out of his kennel to piddle and run around outside a little before he had an accident. (o) Later that week, Heero and Quatre found time to meet at the dog park. "You have met somebody," Quatre said immediately after he and Heero exchanged greetings. "Nothing gets past you, does it?" Heero freed Wing to run about with Sandy. "Should it?" Quatre asked, his innocent smile a dead giveaway that he was up to something. "We already traded secrets, yours and mine." "I know, but I'm curious and you look... different." "Must be that I got some rest. Anyway, it's nothing. I think we can become good friends." "Ah, huh. But you don't want to tell me his name?" "Winner!" came out in the exasperated sigh, and then Heero gave in, as Quatre expected. "Yes, he's got a name, in fact, you know him... you even introduced us." "Really? No, you are mistaken. I've never met your boat-man, and I never forget a face, not in my position." Heero smiled and shook his head. "Is that so?" "Oh!" Quatre's blush rose to his ears and he laughed out loud. "I did not mean it to sound so dirty!" "I know that and I knew what you meant. It's you who didn't get what I was saying. And I didn't mean him. I was talking about the dog man, Trowa Barton." "Tro-?!" "Yeah, him." "But—" Heero didn't want to discuss Trowa or anybody with his best friend, but especially when someone he hadn't expected to see appeared in the distance. He took a few steps up the bike path and pointed. "Later! Look! Hey! That's Duo!" "Who is Duo?" Quatre asked, frowning now. Heero ignored him. "I can't believe it! Right here? In town? With his dog. Damn, a big dog." Quatre flung up his arms. "Don't tell me then." Heero all but forgot he existed in his excitement. "There's no confusing him with anyone else, with that braid." "Heero!" Quatre tugged at his arm. Heero dragged his eyes and attention back to him. "What?" "I'm leaving now—" "Just hold on a minute and meet him, okay?" Heero put on his "I don't ask for much" expression. Quatre pursed his lips and held his tongue. One clipped nod and its accompanying reluctant sigh indicated he'd wait that long. Heero waved and a young man with a big, black dog waved back. "I mentioned him... operated the ship. I just can't get over this!" Heero was grinning, too excited to cover it up. "Duo is the boat man! You could have just said so, Heero. Oh, my! You weren't joking about his hair being long, were you?" Heero shook his head, but wasn't paying attention to Quatre anymore. His eyes were glued wholly to the lithe figure jogging their way. "Man, is that you, Heero? Whatta the odds?" Heero shook the out-stretched hand, suddenly unable to speak. He watched Duo's eyes skim over him, shivered at that, and then noticed him take in Quatre at his side. The next thing he was aware of was Duo's eyes, an uncertain tint of blue, meeting his with an uncertain glance. "Um, and you are-?" Duo asked his friend. "Hello. I'm Quatre, an old friend of Heero's. Pleased to meet you." "Quatre, huh? Well, a friend of 'Ro's is a friend of mine! Heh, heh. Great day out isn't it? Oooh, cute doggie." Quatre smiled wanly. "This is Sandy. She's a purebred cavoodle." "Cavoodle? Like a kick in the ole ca-poodle?" "She's a mix between a toy poodle and a cavalier—" "-Yeah, sweet." Duo squatted to the ground to see her up close. His own dog sat obediently and intently watched his owner. "Hey, sugar. Are you a spoilt girl?" Yip! "Ha! You are, and proud of it. Sand Flea. Good name for a little squirt of a dog. I might have been tempted to have named her Oatmeal, heh, heh. Yeah, you did much, much better. Didn't he, sweetie pie?" Yip, yip! "It's Sand..." Quatre's voice trailed off. Sand Flea was a good name for her, Heero thought. Quatre must have thought so too, he figured, because his friend didn't automatically correct Duo. "Nice dog you got there, 'Ro." A tiny frown came and went on Duo's face. "What's his name?" Heero was just using a few hand signals to settle his dog. The ones Trowa had taught him to use. "Wing," he muttered unintelligibly. Quatre huffed. "I'm sorry, but it seems Heero's gone mute. Wing is a King Charles Spaniel. You like him, Heero, don't you?" "He's fine," Heero spit out, annoyed at himself for clamming up. "Maybe not a good match." "He's not?" Duo seemed genuinely curious, even though Heero knew he was blowing the chance meeting by giving the impression that he'd rather not talk about Wing, or anything else. "What's the problem? I gotta friend who knows everything about dogs-" Heero didn't want to hear about the boyfriend who met Duo at the dock and took care of his dog. "He sheds fur." "Ha! That's not so bad." Duo stroked the long, silky coat with the slight wave. "I can figure that would happen. Pretty coat, though." "Yeah," Heero agreed, returning to short answers. He wasn't looking at Wing; he was staring at Duo, admiring him in as blatant a manner as he had ever done in public. He was there! In the park! Talking to him! He'd remembered his name! He was sexy in those jeans and t-shirt! "What kind... breed of dog is yours, Duo?" Quatre asked, politely. Heero appreciated Quatre for not abandoning him; otherwise, he might just stand there helplessly gaping at Duo. There was one thing being drawn to someone, and another obsessing to the point of muteness and leaving his friend responsible for holding up their end of the conversation. He felt stupid. "Oh, this is Sky." Sky perked up, recognizing his name. "All mutt." Heero cleared his throat, which had gone very dry. Parched. "Very disciplined. I... admire that." "Yeah. Got him trained well, but he's a real "love sponge", ya know? Always soaking up the lovin', aren't you boy?" "Sweet manners," Quatre said approvingly. "Now, that my friend has re-established his verbal skills, I can leave you two to catch up." Quatre scooped up Sand Flea in preparation to take off. "I really have to go. It was nice to meet you, Duo. I hope we can all get together again sometime." (o) "I don't know what to do, Big Shot." Trowa collapsed onto the couch with a beer, a hand scratching the dog's ears. "Heero's a terrific guy. I'd like to, I don't know, meet him for handball, trail-biking, or something." "Quatre, now he's..." His voice faltered and his eyes started to glaze over. He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and licked his lips. Hot Shot, once the ear scratches were over, lay his head on his master's feet and settled in for a snooze. "Damned hot. Yeah. I can't get a read on him yet, but, man, is he hot. And smart? Damn, at times I think he can read my mind. Glad he can't. Shit... I don't know that for certain. I just hope he can't. Not yet." He sighed and polished off the bottle, setting it on the floor and pushing his dog off his feet. "What would he think of this... Duo thing? I cannot keep this up. What do you think?" His dog opened an eye and seeing as there were no further instructions for him, closed it without an answer. "Hey! I feed you. The least you could do is pretend to listen." Hot Shot perked up at Trowa's serious tone. "That's better. Now, I should call him and end it?" Grrr...yep! "That's what I thought. And I would, but I can't reach him. Remember? He 'lost' his phone. Conveniently—" His cell buzzed and he dropped it in surprise. Luckily the device bounced on the cushions. "Bloom's Circus, Trowa Bar—" "This is Quatre." "Well, hello." He smiled into the distance, imagining the face on the other end. His heart was beating so fast, suddenly, his hand trembled. "Say, I'm free tomorrow, if you're thinking of making up for that last cancellation?" "You might have a great deal more free time on your hands if I don't like what you say next." "Oh." An icy chill ran down his back, and settled in the pit of his stomach. "What are you talking about?" "Heero Yuy. I'm certain you recollect him?" There was a significant pause while Trowa considered what he said. "I know him, yeah." "So do I. He's my best friend and—" "Oh, shit—" "—and I don't blame you for being attracted to him. He's a terrific person, but I am hurt... angry that you've been seeing him without telling me!" Trowa just hated being put on the defensive. "I didn't tell him about you either; I didn't think it was necessary. Now hold on and listen. You called, so you want to know where you stand, right? I'm not some player. I'm just... looking to meet people, which you'll agree is pretty limited out here on this rural stretch- and I'm not a bar-dude type." "All right. I'll accept that you want to meet people, men people." "Any people. I'm looking for friendships, but I'm really hoping for more-." "-And how is that going for you?" "To be honest, it's one damn bumpy road, but lately it's looking up." "In what way do you mean?" "Since I met you. I know that sounds corny as hell, but it's true." "I see. And what about Heero? "That is between him and me," Trowa replied. He let out a shaky sigh. "I don't think he's terribly taken with me. I aim to preserve a friendship, though. I hope that satisfies, because I'm not saying more about him." "I understand and ... actually, respect that. I'm not sharing you, that's all. And I don't want him knowing it's you I've been talking to him about, even though it's probably too late to worry about that." "You've been talking about me?" Trowa didn't feel too unhappy about that, and hoped that didn't come out sounding too smug. "He mentioned meeting you a couple times." "Nothing earth-shaking?" "Don't mine my comments for insights," Quatre warned. "Was I?" "You were. You'll talk to him and sort everything out, and if it doesn't take too long, you and I might have dinner the day after." "We might?" "We might. Yes, that's what I said." "You are asking me out?" Trowa repeated to make sure. "Dinner, yes, if you and Heero get things—" "Sorted out. Heard that. We will." "And I'm having a little get-together this Saturday, to which you are invited." "If... I've worked things out." "And I approve, yes," Quatre chuckled now. "Then I better handle your friend delicately, huh?" "Demonstrate your better judgment and fine social skills." Trowa closed the call feeling as if the tightrope he'd been walking just doubled in length and halved in thickness. And Duo, Heero, and Quatre were trading off holding the ends! TBC
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