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"My Braid! "Written By: Lisa-chan Disclaimer: The G-boys are not mine. I only use
them for loads of fun and for putting them in compromising situations
and stuff. Rating: PG 13 for language Warnings: Shounen ai, possible OOCness, humor
I think. Pairings: 1+2, 3+4 Summary: Quatre can use Wufei’s sword…
with drastic consequences for Duo. Authors note: I’ve had this idea a long time
ago, as a suggestion for someone else to write about this, someone
who was *really* good at writing humor. But she all of a sudden turned
anti-anime (how do you turn anti-anime anyway), so I thought, why
not write about it myself? So here’s the result! Hope you like
it!
My Braid!
Duo looked up from his breakfast -pancakes with way
too much syrup and hot cocoa with a fluffy white marshmallow floating
around in it (hey, it was Sunday)- as he heard Quatre yelling in delight. “Wufei, are you finished? Can I have a go now?” Sighing, Wufei closed the door behind him. Really, how
that boy had made it through the war, it still was a mystery to him.
Hearing him like this, one would swear he came fresh from the kindergarten.
“Yes Quatre, but promise to be carefully with it, okay?” Quatre nodded enthusiastically and took the sword from
Wufei. “Wow, it’s heavy,” he said, looking down at
the valuable weapon with admiring eyes. “Yes, I know.” Duo chuckled at the boy’s fervor. He knew Quatre’d
always had an interest in Wufei’s sword, the way he could handle
it, the way he moved with it, the silent power he radiated while at
practice. Not to mention the beauty of the sword itself. Over the
last few weeks, he had started nagging Wufei’s ears off to do
a few swings of his own with the katana. Up till now, he had always
refused. Hell would have to freeze over first before someone else
but himself was allowed to lay his hands upon it. That, or the little
blonde devil with an angel's face doing a pester marathon on him.
Oh, the happiness on his face when Wufei told him that morning he
could have his way with it for a few moments. He kept a smiling eye on the boy, as did the other two
sitting at the table, although it didn’t stop him from devouring
the rest of his breakfast. “Trowa, could you pass me the syrup,
please?” he asked, reaching out for the bottle. “More syrup? Duo, your pancakes are already swimming
in it,” Heero grumbled. “You’re gonna get fat.” “Shut up, Heero. You know I have a sweet tooth.
That’s why I love you so much, ne sugar?” he grinned and
gave a gentle nudge in Heero’s ribs. “And I’m not gonna
get fat. I work out.” He took the syrup from Trowa and started
drowning his pancakes in the sticky fluid. He shook it, squeezed it,
shook it again. “Darn it! It’s empty!” he cursed. He
aimed for the waste bin, but missed. “Hm… my accuracy has
known better times.” Quatre weighed the sword in his hands. The handle felt
still warm from Wufei’s touch. The gold in some places shone.
He took the sheath off and handed it to Wufei. Taking a step back,
he held it up in the air. He could see his own face reflected in the
blade. A smile on his lips, sparkles in his ocean blue eyes. He took
another step back and experimentally swung it around in the air. Moving
this way and that, his feet followed the movements of his body. Suddenly
he felt something under his foot. He lost his balance. He fell. Wufei had been hesitant at first to lend Quatre his
sword. More than hesitant. Downright reluctant in fact. He had always
worn and used his sword with great pride. It had been a gift from
his sensei, back on L5. Just like Duo and his braid, his sword carried
a lot of emotions with it. Should something happen to it, his sensei
would, well, not kick his ass, 'coz he died in the war, but he would
come back from the dead and haunt him; Wufei was convinced of that.
Hence his reluctance to give his sword to someone else. But it’s not like Quatre was a three year old toddler
who considered it just a toy, even though he had been behaving himself
like that for the last few weeks. He knew the deeper meaning, the
bond Wufei had with his sword. He would be careful with it... right? Wufei looked at the boy with a gentle smile. The childlike
happiness he had conjured upon his face with his admittance to use
his word for a few moments warmed his heart. Careful swings in the
air, the tentative placement of his feet as he moved it around. Suddenly everything seemed to be happening in slow motion.
He stepped on a… what was it? An empty bottle of syrup?! How
the hell did that get there?! He lost his balance, his grip around
the hilt of the sword loosening as his reflex's kicked in, trying
to find support. He fell. The sword flew through the air. “Whoa!” “My sword!” “Everybody, duck!” Trowa yelled. Duo turned his head at the tumult coming from the two
boys and saw a sword flying in his direction. “Shit!” He
bowed his head to the table, just like the other two, his braid whipping
up behind him. As he peeked up again, he saw Wufei whooshing past,
hunting for his precious sword, then as he looked at his two companions
across the table he noted the breathless faces staring at him. “What?” he said. “My God,” Heero gasped. “Quatre, run for it!” Trowa shouted, turning
to the little blonde. “Uh-oh.” “What the hell…?” Wufei dashed to where his sword had landed. A rug. Thank
God, not the hard floor. There was hope yet! Kneeling down, he picked
it up to see what damage had been done to it. Nothing broken, not
a scratch. Glory be! It was undamaged! Behind him, he could hear several kinds of reactions. “My God.” “Quatre, run for it!” “Uh-oh.” “What the hell…?” Was that for his sword that they were panicking like
that? He turned around, looking straight at Duo, and clamped his hand
in front of his mouth. No, they weren’t. Duo was confused. Why were they staring at him like
that? Something lying on the floor caught his eye. What was that?
Something long. Something chestnut-colored. Why, it was… It was
a braid. Who’s braid…? His eyes widened. He looked back to the still equally
breathless and pale faces across the table. Behind them Wufei was
looking fairly shocked. Slowly, he reached his hand to the back of
his head and felt. His eyes hovered back to the thing on the floor,
back to his friends, back to the thing. That thing, it wasn’t
just a ‘thing’, he started to realize. That thing was his
braid, his very own treasured, worshiped, idolized braid. His mouth
fell open, his mind started to whirl, his chest heaved. A wail tore
from his throat. “NOOO!!!” he shrieked. “QUATRE!! Start
saying your prayers, buddy!” He bounded out of his chair and
darted at the door through which Quatre had escaped. “Come back
here and take it like a man, you coward!” he roared, storming
outside. Judging by his quick return, Quatre was nowhere to be spotted.
“What are you three looking at?!” he spat, tears streaming
down his cheeks. “Y-your braid… It’s cut off,” Heero
stammered, pointing at him with a shivering finger. “Well, thanks for mentioning THAT, smartass!”
Duo sobbed sarcastically. “Hadn’t noticed that yet!”
Kneeling down in front of his forlorn looking and disheveled braid,
he picked it up like a run over puppy and headed for the lounge room. “Do you need anything, love?” Heero called,
trotting behind his lover and sticking his head around the door post “Leave me the FUCK alone, mister Yuy Perfect fucking
Heero Soldier!!” Heero had to duck as a flying shoe headed his way and
looked for refuge with Trowa and Wufei. “His sentences are scrambled.
He’s in an advanced stage of rage,” he stated soberly. “What should we do?” Trowa asked. “For now, stay away from the lounge room,”
Heero sighed. “That is, unless you want to have your eyes scratched
out.” ~*~ Trowa had taken up residence at the front door, while
Heero and Wufei were consoling Duo. Or at least trying to. Ever since
the incident, the boy hadn’t left the sofa. Trowa himself hadn’t
ventured into the disaster area, for the simple reason that he wanted
to protect Quatre if he came back. He’d need it. Oh no, it wasn’t
the remarks along the line of “Whoever DARES to try telling me
it’s not a big deal’d better have a deathwish!” or
“No Heero, I don’t WANT a feel better fuck, I WANT MY BRAID
BACK!!”. Duo turning down the offer to be fucked, now *that*
was something to worry about. “Any sign of Quatre yet?” he heard behind
him. Trowa turned around, momentarily tearing his eyes away
from the street. “Wufei,” he said. “No, nothing. I
think he’s afraid to come back.” He turned back to the street
and sighed. Wufei smiled and softly squeezed his friend’s shoulder.
“He’ll come back. He’ll have to face him sooner or
later, won’t he?” Trowa returned the smile, his eyes not leaving the street. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he murmured. “How’s Duo?” “Not good. He’s not as furious as a few hours
ago, but he hasn’t stopped crying since it happened,” Wufei
said, letting go of Trowa’s shoulder and looking down in misery.
He felt sympathy for the boy. He probably would react the same way
should something happen to his sword. “He’s just sitting
hunched up in the couch, hugging his braid. Heero’s consoling
him the best he can, but it’s not really helping.” “Is he still very angry with Quatre?” “Oh, he’s angry with all of us.” Trowa jerked his head aside in surprise. “He is?” “Yes. Right now, he’s at the stage where he
blames everyone but himself.” “You’re kidding.” “I’m not. He blames me because I gave my sword
to Quatre, Quatre for having tripped with it, Heero for not having
thrown himself between him and the sword, and you because you weren’t
sitting on his chair.” “Well, I’ll be.” “Psst…” they suddenly heard. Trowa stuck
his head out and looked around. Finding nothing, he pulled back. “Did
I hear someone saying Psst?” he asked Wufei. “I didn’t hear anything,” Wufei shrugged. “Psst…” “There, I heard it again!” Marching outside
completely now, Trowa again looked around. “Who’s there?”
he asked. “Over here!” someone hissed. A hand carefully waved from between a bush and blonde
locks peeked out from amidst the foliage. “Quatre? Is that you?” Trowa asked, kneeling
down in front of the bush. “Yeah, it’s me,” Quatre whispered. “What are you doing in there?” “What does it look like? I’m hiding. Is it
safe to come in yet? Are they planning on killing me?” “They?” Trowa asked, arching an eyebrow. “Duo and Wufei,” Quatre explained. “Why would I want to kill you?” “Aaah!” Quatre jumped as Wufei suddenly stood
behind Trowa and then fell backwards. “Dammit Wufei, you scared
the hell out of me!” he yelled, stumbling upright. “Am I that frightening?” Wufei said in mock
hurt. Quatre narrowed his eyes and put his hands on his hips.
“That depends. Are you angry with me because I threw your sword
through the air?” “No, I’m not angry with you because you threw
my sword through the air.” “Then you’re not frightening,” Quatre
smiled. “I am angry with you though,” he paused to
cross his arms in front of his chest, “because of what happened
to it afterwards.” Quatre’s face at once switched back to concern.
“What?” Wufei delighted in teasing the little blonde. Oh, wasn’t
he just a deliciously easy prey? “It fell on the hard floor.
The blade is chipped in most places and what was still intact has
scratches on it. The gold foil on the handle has been scraped off
and what was once a proud, shining dragon carved into it, now is reduced
to a hideous monster.” He slowly stalked over to the boy while
he went through the made up damage to his precious weapon, making
Quatre slowly walk backwards. “I don’t doubt it however,
that it will still be sharp enough to slice your cute little throat.” Quatre was on the verge of crying by now and started to wish he had never asked Wufei to lend him his sword. “N-no! Trowa, protect me!” he wailed overly
dramatic, scurrying behind his lover’s back. “I don’t
wanna die! I’m too young and too pretty to die! I still have
to be cute and gorgeous and break the hearts of crazy girls because
they can never have me, instead they're just gonna have to drool over
my good looks! And I still have to spend all my money on ugly artworks
I don’t need! And I still have a lot of fucking around to do
with Trowa!” On that, Trowa turned around. “You want to fuck
me?” he asked, most pleasantly surprised. “Hell, anything to get me away from *him*!”
Quatre cried with a dreaded glance at Wufei, throwing his arms around
Trowa’s neck in the utmost despair. “Are you saying that fucking me would only be a
red herring?” “T-Trowa… That’s not what I meant!” “You’d better not have, 'coz if you did, then
I’m afraid I’m gonna have to kill you too.” Oh, sweet mother of God, Wufei was having the time of
his life! The expressions on the blonde’s face were priceless,
and the one when Trowa said he would have to kill him too undoubtedly
had to be the pick of the bunch. It was somewhere between sheer tragedy
and panic. He tried to stifle his smirks, but failed. And it got better
yet! Quatre was actually gonna cry. Applause, ladies and gentlemen! Quatre had let go of Trowa’s neck and was now standing
in front of him with his arms just hanging limp against his body,
his chin quivering. “But Trowa… I thought you loved me,”
he whined childishly, tears filming his eyes. “I do, Quatre,” Trowa said calmly, playing
his role of hurt lover to the best of his abilities. “But if
you’re gonna start seeing me as just a fucktoy, then I’m
not so sure about that anymore. Wufei, your sword please,” Trowa
said, reaching his hand out to Wufei without looking away from his
scared little friend. Wufei hopped inside and moments later returned with
his sword… in perfect shape. “H-hey,” Quatre peeped. “There is nothing
wrong with that sword.” His jaw set and his one eye started to
twitch ominously as he looked from one grinning face to the other.
“You… you have been… Oh, that’s cruel. That is
so cruel! TROWA!!” “Quatre, stop yelling!” “I’m not yelling!” he roared, pouncing
at Trowa and smothering him under a tickle attack. “No! No Quatre! Please stop, I beg of you!”
Trowa giggled between fits of laughter. “Oh, you think that’s all the begging you’re
gonna have to do?” Quatre laughed, his fingers exploiting Trowa’s
ribs mercilessly. “You are going to pay for this tonight, my
beautiful Trowa.” Wufei reached for his forehead and shook his head. “Well
Quatre, I hope it has been a lesson for you,” he sighed. Both of them still giggling ridiculously, they composed
themselves and looked at Wufei. “Yes it has, Wufei. I’ll never ask for your
sword again,” Quatre said meekly. “Good.” Lost in the little banter, all three had forgotten about
Duo and his braid. Yes, the memorable, historical fact that Duo’s
braid had been cut off, and they had forgotten. What they heard and
saw when they entered the house again, reminded them. ~*~ Heero had managed to convince Duo into getting some
rest and was now guiding him to the stairs. Duo was hanging on his
arm, braid still tightly clutched against him. In spite of the threats
he was uttering, his voice was surprisingly mild. Pathetic even. “I’m going to kill him. Can I kill him, Hee-chan?
I can, can’t I?” he whined, looking up at his sweetheart
for permission. “No Duo. I’m sorry, but you can’t kill
him,” Heero said wisely. “But I have killed so many people in the war. And
then it was okay. So why can’t I kill Quatre then?” “Because the war is over and killing is now considered
a crime.” “But I am Shinigami. I’m the God of Death.
I am authorized to kill him.” “Duo, I said no.” “Okay,” Duo said finally, looking down in
defeat. “But I’m still gonna hurt him.” Just as they set one foot on the first step of the stairs,
they caught movement near the front door. Wufei, Trowa and a very
terrified looking Quatre. “You…” Duo growled, his eyes a poisonous
purple. “Trowaaa!” Quatre was quick to take his place
behind his boyfriend's back again. “HA! You can hide from me, but you can’t escape
me! Heero, let go of my arm!” Duo yelled in his frenzy, trying
with all his might to pull his arm free from Heero’s grip. “That
boy is going to pay for what he has done! He will regret it! I will
make him regret it! My braid must be avenged!!” “Trowa, I want a beautiful funeral with lots of
flowers, an oak wood coffin with white satin lining on the inside,”
Quatre sniveled against Trowa’s shirt. “And lots of music,
beautiful mushy music that will make everyone cry.” Trowa placed himself protectively between his boyfriend
and Duo, valiantly standing up against his outrageous tantrum. “Now
Duo, before you jump to conclusions…” “Jump to conclusions?! JUMP TO CONCLUSIONS?!?!
I have the evidence of Quatre’s stupidity RIGHT HERE in my hand!”
Duo shoved his braid under Trowa’s nose to stress his point,
still floundering in Heero’s arms to get free and release his
wrath on Quatre. “That is MY braid you are looking at and Quatre’s
the one who has cut it off! Do you even know the things my hair has
seen? The death of my parents, my life on the streets with Solo, father
Maxwell taking me in, sister Helen braiding it for the first time!
And it’s all gone now, all because of Quatre’s clumsiness!
So don’t go telling me I’m jumping to conclusions!” “It was an accident,” Quatre ventured. “I would shut up if I were you!!” “No, the boy’s right, it was an accident,”
Wufei interfered. “He tripped over an empty bottle of syrup.” All faces promptly turned to Duo. “What?” he asked sheepishly. “And who was it that threw that bottle of syrup?”
Trowa said, his mouth subtly curling into a victorious smirk. The proverbial storm inside of Duo dropped. He slowly
lowered his eyes, then peeked up again through his bangs. “Me,”
he peeped. “Hee- *hiccup* Hee-chan, I think I’m gonna need
that feel better fuck after all.” “And where do you think you’re going?”
they heard behind them. They turned around again to stare into emerald
green. “Upstairs… Fucking…” Duo said simplistically,
shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t you think you owe Quatre an apology
first?” Duo insecurely looked at Heero. After a short nod from
the Japanese youth, he looked down in shame and hid his mouth behind
his hand. “I’m sorry…” he mumbled hardly audible. “What was that? I didn’t quite understand
what you said there, Duo,” Trowa teased the boy, placing one
hand behind his ear. “I’m sorry, okay?!” Duo barked. “And
now, leave us alone.” Quatre watched the couple as they went upstairs, a consoling arm wrapped around Duo’s shoulders. “Thank you for defending me like that, my sweet
Trowa,” he cheered, wrapping his arms around Trowa’s neck.
“Now I won’t punish you anymore tonight for teasing me just
now, that good?” “But I like being punished by you,” Trowa
said. “Oh?” Quatre said, arching and eyebrow. “Then
I guess I’ll have to be doubly severe.” “I don’t want to hear this,” Wufei grumbled,
heading for the living room. “He’ll hear it anyway tonight,” Trowa
whispered in Quatre’s ear. Both boys chuckled and followed Wufei’s example. ~*~ Duo’s sniveling was the only thing audible in the
bedroom. They hadn’t quite come to the fucking yet. Hell, they
even hadn’t come to the undressing yet. They just sat on the
bed next to each other, Heero holding a softly sobbing Duo. “What am I gonna do now? My braid, my beautiful
braid,” Duo yammered. “Can’t we paste it back to the
back of my head, Hee-chan? Or tie it back on with little strings or
something?” “No Duo. I’m afraid that’s impossible.
But we can go to the hairdresser and ask for hair extensions,”
Heero suggested. “But that wouldn’t be my own hair, Hee-chan.” “We could use your braid for it, honey. Then it
would be your hair.” Duo’s head swiveled around to face his boyfriend,
hope shining in his eyes. “Really Hee-chan?! You think we could
do that?” “Sure, I don’t see there being a problem.” “Oh Hee-chan, you’re so smart! I love you!”
He threw himself on Heero and hugged him senseless. Closing his eyes,
he assaulted Heero's face with kisses. “Duo, what the fuck are you doing?!” Duo opened his eyes again in surprise. He really couldn’t
recall the moment when he’d seen Heero undressing himself. “How
do you mean, what are you doing? I thought we were gonna fuck now.
And when did you take off your clothes?” “No, we weren’t gonna fuck, we already had
enough of that yesterday, and I took off my clothes last night when
I went to bed, you baka!” “But… Aw! What did you do?!” Duo yelled
as he felt a sharp pain at the back of his skull. He looked down to
where Heero’s hand held a thick rope of hair. “Tugged your braid,” Heero said, holding Duo’s
braid up and tugging it again. “Heero, stop it!” Duo shouted. “But…
But, but…” His arms were wildly flailing about him, he reached
behind and felt the place where skull and braid were supposed to be
attached. It was there! All hail! “Oh… Ooh… Oooh!”
he said, his voice increasingly getting louder. “Duo, you sound like you’re having an orgasm,”
Heero stated, starting to back away. “What’s the matter
with you?” An orgasm? Gods, this positively felt much better! “My
braid! It was only a dream!” he cheered, hugging his braid. “Oh,
my braid, my beautiful, beautiful braid. If you were a person I would
make love to you!” Heero seriously didn’t know what to think. Now,
he knew the boy was fanatical about his hair, but this? If you were
a person I would make love to you? So this was it. He had finally
lost it. “Duo…” he started, but before Heero could
say anymore, he had already darted out of their bedroom and declared
to all the world that his braid was still on his head. “Duo,
you’re still naked!” Heero sighed and shook his head, not
even bothering to follow the boy. Oh, Duo and his crazy antics. He
had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of it yet. ~*~ Owari. |
