"Three for Joy"

Written By: Waterliliylf

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All rights remain with Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. No profit being made here.

Rating: R

Warnings: Romance, angst, sap, friendship

Pairings: 5x4 and (possible) 1x2. Copious references to past 3x4.

Summary: As far as Wufei is concerned, he and Quatre are a perfect example oftwo's company, so when Trowa moves back to Sanq will three be a crowd, or justpossibly, a joy to embrace?

Author's Note: Writing this story truly has been a joint effort. The original idea came from Standingontherooftops (as compensation for having broken her brain in a previous story) and she also suggested the personalities and pairings and gave huge amounts of positive feedback as it progressed. Kaeru Shisho gave me most of the plot, as well as many, many suggestions, edited many, many times, and then persuaded me it wasn't long enough so the whole process had to start again. All of this wonderful support meant that I was free to get on with the really fun business of actually writing and had massive amounts of fun.

Dedication: This story is affectionately dedicated to both the ladies mentioned above, without whom it would have been finished in half the time.

"Three for Joy"

Chapter 6

''Morning, 'Fei.'

Wufei looked up from the book he'd been trying to read to see Trowa standing over him, a giant cup of coffee in one hand and grunted. All he needed; another caffeine addict. Actually, he didn't need or want anyone at all; he'd wanted an hour or so to himself.

'You're grouchy for someone who just got an unexpected holiday.'

'I'm not on holiday,' Wufei said darkly. 'Just because Une decided to send someone else to the conference doesn't mean I get time off instead.' He didn't really mind not going to the actual conference, although he'd been looking forward to some of the speakers, and to seeing people he knew. It would have meant he'd be occupied for a few days, with things to think about other than Quatre.

'Grouchy,' Trowa affirmed, pulling out a chair to sit. 'Trouble in Paradise?'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'He didn't come home last night.'

'He had an insanely early flight this morning. He decided it was easier to stay overnight at a hotel by the shuttle port.'

'Right. So you guys had a row then?'

'No. We had a small disagreement.'

Not that it was any Trowa's business, Wufei thought sourly.

'Uh huh.' Trowa nodded sceptically. 'Sure. That would be why you left the house at the crack of dawn yesterday.'

'I had a breakfast meeting,' Wufei said tersely, which was mostly true. He hadn't been able to sleep at all on Sunday night, and Quatre hadn't come back upstairs. He'd been asleep on the sofa in his study when Wufei had left for work. He'd draped a blanket over him and kissed him, but Quat hadn't woken up. 'Anyway, what are you doing here? I thought you had a frantic schedule this week.'

Trowa shrugged, dropping into a chair across from him. 'I'm not like Quat. I know how to delegate. And it's a nice day; I fancied a morning off. What about you? Not going into the office?'

'I have reports to write. It's quieter here than at work.'

Trowa grinned at him. 'Well, that's what you get for having Duo in the office with you. If we're both off today, maybe we can do something.'

'I'm not off,' Wufei snapped. 'I have work to do.'

'Ooh, you're cranky. And channelling Quat. Must have been a hell of a row you guys didn't have.' He took a sip of his coffee, long legs sprawled gracelessly in front of him. He nudged Wufei's foot with one scuffed trainer. 'Hey. If you fancy talking about it, I'm here.'

'There's nothing to talk about.'

'OK. You had breakfast yet? I'm starving.'

Wufei abruptly remembered that Trowa was officially a guest in their home. 'I'm sorry. I'll get you something. What would you like?'

'For you to relax a little bit.' Trowa bumped his foot again. 'I can make something for us. You get on with your book.'

He was back fifteen minutes later, carrying a laden tray.

'I didn't know what you fancied, so I made everything.' He handed Wufei a plate laden with fluffy pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage and a smaller dish of fruit salad.

'You shouldn't have gone to all that trouble.'

'No trouble. I was kind of disappointed though. I thought you two had a fleet of butlers and pastry-cooks and stuff.'

Wufei took a forkful of eggs, surprisingly hungry. He hadn't eaten much the previous day at all. 'One chef, but he's part-time. And our housekeeper only comes a three days a week.'

Trowa nodded. 'So. This row that didn't happen. What was it about?'

'I'd really rather not talk about it.'

Trowa, surprisingly, just nodded. 'Up to you. But if you change your mind, I'll listen, and I do know Quat pretty well.'

That was true, Wufei reflected, and not something many people could claim. Quatre was always so charmingly sociable, so flatteringly interested in everyone he met, that people generally didn't realise he gave almost nothing away in return.

'When you two were together, was it a problem that he had money?' he asked suddenly.

Trowa shrugged. 'He didn't, back then. His family had, yeah, but he'd run off to play soldiers and he'd been disowned and all that. Why? It's never seemed to be an issue for you guys.'

'It wasn't. He said something last night.'

'In the middle of this row you weren't having? Big deal. Stuff you say during fights doesn't count.'

'We don't have fights,' Wufei said tightly. 'We have discussions.'

'God, that sounds boring. So you never get to have great make-up sex?' He put his cup down, looking closely at Wufei. 'You're really upset about this, aren't you? It's just an argument, right? You can sort it out. You know, if he didn't do stupid shit sometimes, he'd have nothing to apologise for, and then he'd lose his whole purpose in life.'

Wufei didn't even bother to try to smile. 'We've never had a row that went on for this long. Never.' By now, usually, there would have been heartfelt apologies and promises never to do it again.

'Then you've had it easy,' Trowa said bluntly. 'He's back on Friday, right? Meet him off the shuttle, take him somewhere nice for dinner, drag him off to bed when you get home. It'll be fine.'

Wufei snorted. 'No, thank you. If I hadn't tried taking your ridiculous advice in the first place, this wouldn't have happened.'

'Seriously?' Trowa's eyes gleamed. 'What happened exactly?'

Ten minutes later, he was in stitches.

'It's not funny.'

'Oh, I promise you it is! Hilarious, in fact. The funniest thing I've ever heard. You really spilt tea on his laptop? No wonder he was pissed.'

'No! It was only a small cup and it didn't go anywhere near his bloody computer.'

'Yeah, he's such a drama queen,' Trowa said fondly. 'He used to be so fussy about Sandrock not being shiny enough, or getting a little scratch. Lucky he had the Maguanacs or he'd have spent the whole war waxing and polishing.'

'Well,' Wufei let his expression relax into a smile, remembering Quatre in his blue silk pyjamas waving a sodden lump of paper. 'Maybe it was a little bit funny. But he didn't think it was.'

'He'll get over it.' Trowa buttered himself a piece of toast. 'So, you still haven't told me what this row was actually about?'

'Oh, different things. His job, mostly; how ridiculously hard he works. It's insane.'

'Me?' Trowa was looking down, spreading a thick layer of marmalade on his triangle of toast, carefully indifferent.

'You were mentioned, yes.'

'Sorry,' Trowa offered.

'It wasn't your fault.'

Well, it was in a way. He would never have tried…mauling Quatre if Trowa hadn't planted the suggestion in his head. He would have either offered to stay and help, or else given Quatre a gentle kiss and told him not to stay up too long and gone back to bed.

'What you said, the other night, about him working too hard, it made me think about things,' he said slowly. 'You were right. I just didn't let myself notice, or I convinced myself that it was just 'til he'd finished the project he was working on, but there's always something else. Always. Last night, I just wanted him to rest, not stay up all night, and then he got defensive and it all went wrong.'

'Hey.' Trowa reached out and touched his arm. 'Don't you start on a guilt trip. You've noticed that there's a problem; that means you can start fixing it. Oh, yeah, and we have got to work on your seduction techniques.'

'I do not need any help in that area,' Wufei said coldly.

'Um, judging by your last attempt, yes, you most definitely do.' Trowa was wearing that utterly infuriating, knowing grin. 'That's OK. We can fix that. Now, what are you planning to do this morning? Apart from the reports you aren't going to be writing because you'll be thinking about Quat? No plans? Cool! I fancy a swim. I can't believe you guys have your own swimming pool and you never use it.'

'We do, sometimes. Anyway, I can't go swimming now. Not after everything I've just eaten.'

Trowa rocked backwards in his chair and laughed at him. 'Man, listen to yourself. Why don't you try living dangerously for a change? Anyway, I know you. By the time you've cleaned your teeth and flossed and gargled and all the rest of it, you'll have digested everything you've eaten.'

The thought of a swim was ridiculous. He had work to do. He could take an hour off. The cases were closed; it wasn't as if anyone would be demanding the paperwork any time soon.

'Right. But if I get a cramp and drown, it'll be your fault.'

'I'll save you,' Trowa promised.

It didn't take him that long to get ready, whatever Trowa had claimed. Fifteen minutes at the most, including the time it took to find a pair of swimming trunks. Trowa would probably be wearing some sort of thong. Or nothing. By the time he came back outside, Trowa was already lazing in the pool and dressed surprisingly respectably; board shorts and a baggy t-shirt. Sensible enough, when Wufei considered it; he'd only been back on Earth a few weeks and would burn to a crisp if he wasn't careful.

'That was quick.' Trowa smirked a little as Wufei slid off his towelling robe. 'You and Quat are so alike sometimes. Would it have killed you to walk through your own empty house without a dressing gown?'

'We both come from very conservative cultures.' Wufei slid into the water. 'We weren't raised to go around half-naked.'

Trowa snorted. 'Quatre wasn't raised to go around slaughtering people either, but if he got over that, you think he'd flash a bit of skin every so often. It's not as if either of you has anything to hide. The opposite in fact. Right, race you?'

He was off before he'd even finished speaking, powering through the pool in a strong crawl. Wufei kept pace for a few lengths, then slowed down and just enjoyed the feeling of water and sunlight and Trowa's occasional comments as he passed. He'd been right; it was ridiculous how little they used the pool.

He'd planned to change and go straight back inside, but Trowa had laid out towels on the sun-loungers and it wouldn't hurt, after all, just to lie down and dry off in the sun. Just for a couple of minutes.

'I could get used to this.' Trowa towelled himself off and then settled down luxuriously, rubbing sun-block into his long limbs. 'I had a job in Sicily a couple of years ago,' he said, noticing Wufei watching him. 'Spent a day at the beach and got burnt raw. Never again. You want some?'

'It's all right. I already put some on upstairs.'

'The water's probably washed it off by now,' Trowa stood up, moved to kneel beside him. 'Quat won't be too happy if he comes home and you're a different colour to when he left.'

'I can do it myself.'

'I'm sure you're perfectly capable, yes.' Trowa squirted a good dollop of cream onto each shoulder and began to smooth it in.

It was just like getting a massage, Wufei told himself firmly. Nothing remotely sensual or erotic about any of it. Trowa was keeping up a flow of small talk; commenting on the garden and the weather and an appointment he had later with a bank to discuss their security arrangements. It was not remotely sensual. Not. He gritted his teeth as Trowa swept one hand across his chest, the pad of his thumb brushing a nipple.

'Ooops. Sorry.' That infernal grin, naturally, was on his lips. 'Turn 'round, will you? I'll do your back.'

It seemed like a good plan; a good excuse to hide the growing bulge in his shorts that Trowa had politely chosen not to comment on. A good plan in theory. Unfortunately, it meant that he was face-down with Trowa leaning over him.

He kept it surprisingly clinical, this time, rubbing in lotion with brisk, sure strokes, and none of the little lingering touches of before. Maybe he'd imagined the whole thing. Trowa worked both hands along the length of his spine and settled at the base of his neck, massaging gently.

'You're tense,' he noted. 'Is it all because of the row with Quatre?'

'I suppose so.' Mostly. With a certain amount of reaction from his body to … other things. Trowa had squirted another blob of cream on to his skin, and was taking his sweet time to rub in the lotion, and it felt sinfully wonderful.

'You've talked to him since then, right?'

'Of course.' Two phone calls in total; both brief. He'd called Quat on Monday morning to say he'd be working late, which was Quat had informed him that he wasn't sure if he'd make it home at all. And then Quat had called from the shuttle port, a couple of hours ago. That had almost been a conversation; could have been, if Quat hadn't also been dealing with Customs and some stupid, persistent secretary who kept asking him things. At least they'd said a proper goodbye to each other, and Quat had offered another apology. He'd sounded upset.

'Just give him time,' Trowa advised, fingers curling around his shoulders. 'When he gets in a strop like that, he's better off just left alone, sometimes. He knows damn well he was out of order; he only gets defensive when he's knows he's wrong about something. He'll come 'round.'

'I suppose. I hate this; I hate not being able to talk to him properly.'

'Why don't you? Just call him.'

'I don't know. I want to talk to him properly, not over the 'phone. I can't believe he just took off.'

'Well,' Trowa sounded vaguely amused, 'Duo's not the only one who runs and hides.'

His hands were warm on Wufei's skin, drifting gently up and down his back, no longer even making a pretence at giving him a massage. This was caressing, pure and simple. He should put a stop to it. Definitely.

'Oh, hey, I brought down that book I told you about.' Trowa's hands stilled abruptly. 'Want to see?'

'What?'

This was too much; far too much. Sunlight and the smell of coconut oil, and Trowa straddling him.

'You know.' Trowa sounded like he could guess every single emotion racing through his brain. 'I told you, when we were at that market on Sunday.' He bent down and rummaged through his bag. 'Here you are. I don't know if it's any good, but it looks old, and the characters are sort of like the ones in those books you had during the war. Anyway, you can have it if you like.'

Wufei took the small book without really thinking about anything at all, and immediately sat bolt upright. 'Where did you get this?'

'L1. I thought I said. A little antique shop; they had a few old books on a shelf at the back.'

'Books like this?' Wufei asked, not sure if he could remember how to breathe.

'Mostly old classics in English. Why? Is it special?'

'I don't know enough to be sure but yes, I think it's very special. Gods, Trowa.' He fingered the binding, reverential. 'Do you have any idea how old this must be? You can't just give it to me! It should be in a museum or something.'

There was a small Chinese community on L1. It was possible that the book had been imported there directly from Earth. Far more tempting, though, to imagine that it had been on L5 at some point, perhaps belonged to a member of his family, who had then moved to another colony, or sent it there as a gift.

It could be a piece of his history.

Trowa shrugged, an indulgently pleased little smile on his face. 'I did just give it to you, in case you didn't notice. You can do whatever you like with it.'

'But it must be worth a fortune.'

'Sell it then.'

'No!'

'It's yours.' Trowa reached out one hand, closing Wufei's fingers around the little book. 'What's it about anyway?'

'It's poetry. I'm not sure if I can translate it exactly. It's a very old dialect.'

'Why don't you try?' Trowa was sitting so close his breath warmed Wufei's ear. And they were still virtually holding hands, with the little book between them.

'I suppose I could.'

'Love poems, are they?' Trowa's hands were warm from the sun; big enough to cover his. He couldn't pull away in case it damaged the fragile little book.

'I've hardly had a chance to look at them yet!'

'I guess not.' He uncurled Wufei's fingers, one by one, and taking the book back, set it carefully on a dry towel beside them. Then he unfurled Wufei's palm. 'Ever had this read?'

'I don't believe in any of that nonsense.'

'There was a woman at the circus who used to read palms.' One long finger traced circles over Wufei's skin. 'She was pretty good; taught me a little bit. Let's see. Good, strong love line. That'd be Quat. That big upside down V near your wrist means lots of travel. See? It does work.'

'It's just a stupid superstition.'

Trowa's finger was on his wrist now, moving in soft, feathery strokes. 'It's just a bit of fun.'

Wufei's mouth was dry. 'Is it?'

'You take everything way too seriously. Has no one ever told you that?'

'You, mostly.'

Trowa grinned. 'You actually listen to anything I say? I'm impressed. Although you did leave your hair down this morning.'

'I like it loose when I'm swimming, the way it feels floating in the water.'

'It looks really good too.' Inevitably, the hand not holding Wufei's slid up his other arm, sliding through his damp hair. 'I like that you wear it a bit longer now.'

'Quatre likes it like that.'

'I'll bet he does,' Trowa purred, cupping fingers at the nape of Wufei's neck and tilting his head slightly.

Colour rising, Wufei licked his lips, unconsciously, eyes fastened to Trowa's mouth. So very close.

'Lucky Quat.' Trowa let him go, sitting back on his heels and looking quizzical. 'So…how did I do?'

'What? What are you talking about?'

'I told you that I was going to give you a little lesson in how to seduce someone. Remember? It's all about misdirection. Where you went wrong with Quat the other night, you rushed things. You went straight in for the kill. It doesn't work like that.'

A lesson. That was all. Naturally. He could do this. He was disciplined and strong and controlled. 'The other day, you said I should just bend him over his desk.'

'There's a time and a place, you know. If you're going to do something like then do it. You were faffing around with cups of tea and apologies and then you practically asked his permission first. That kind of negates the whole point, you know?'

'Apparently,' Wufei acknowledged dryly.

'Yeah. Seduction now, that's a whole other ball game. You need to be subtle, keep him off balance. That's why you start off with something that looks innocent; a backrub or whatever. You're just being a caring boyfriend, right? Then, just as he's starting to get into it, you switch off completely, talk about something else, let him wonder if there was anything going on at all. And then when he's all distracted and unsure, you can start again. What I just did to you.'

Wufei swallowed. They'd almost kissed. He'd wanted to. 'Was that all it was that about? A lesson?'

Trowa's eyes, on him, were witch-hazel green, intent. One hand had suddenly appeared on Wufei's knee, rubbing slow circles. 'What did you want it to be about? If it's what you want, I'll kiss you.'

'You can't.'

'You survived me doing it before.'

Before was almost seven years ago; drifting tendrils of wood-smoke from the campfire and the acrid, sour smell of animals kept in too-close confinement and the deep bite of shame whenever he thought about the duel with Khushrenada and then Trowa's mouth moving against his.

'That was before. Before Quatre. For both of us.'

Trowa grinned. 'Well. Technically, for me, it was during Quatre. Oh, don't look like that. I'd met him twice. It wasn't like we'd made any major commitments. So. There you go; seduction 101. Will you remember it?'

'Do you seriously think sex solves everything?' Wufei demanded. Trowa still had one hand on his knee.

''Course not, but if you do it right, the problem might just vanish, or you'll be in a better mood to face it. Plus with Quat, half the time the problems are just in his head or he's working himself up over some stupid thing that's not his fault, but that he's tying himself in knots to try to fix. If you're trying to calm him down, sex is the best way. And if you do it right, it's serious fun.'

~ * ~

Chapter 7

Back to Waterlilylf's Page

Back to GW Authors Index.