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I am in a silly sort of mood. Be warned.
I wanna chat but no one is online ;_; Ok, ok, it must be late in the states, I know, but here it's night already *sniffle* Friday night...... I can stay online all night long!!! Mikke!!! Seraaaaa!!!! Where are youuuuuu!???!!!!! *sniffle* Tk?..... Mel? Christy?
....someone wanna chat? ;__;
I don't wanna draw. *pout*
Wufei got out of the shower and dried himself off as much as he could, then, shrugging on a bathrobe, padded silently to his room. He bolted the door to be sure that no one would enter and find him gone, and used the old servant's passage hidden at the other end of the walk-in closet.
Those passages had been in use when the house had been built, something like a hundred years ago, maybe more, but now, the only regular staff was the kitchen staff, two cleaning ladies and Pargan, and Pargan was probably the only one to still know about the passages, if even. It procured a secret way of going anywhere in the house without being seen; really great. Heero and Wufei had discovered and explored them together during long nights where the babysitter was too occupied with her sitcoms or her conversations on the phone to check on what they were doing, and now they nearly knew every passage by heart. No map, though; they didn't want anyone finding it and discovering their little secret.
Wufei descended the narrow stairs to the cellar, and padded to the badly-lit side, not caring about the dust and cobwebs. The door creaked when he opened it, and he slid in the room before closing the door behind him.
The room was surprisingly clean for a cellar, especially when you saw the state of the rest of the floor. There was, in a corner, an old but still good couch, a TV set, a small fridge, and just beside it, a table covered by computer parts, hard drives, screens, and at least three keyboards, all linked together in a mass of wires that probably connected in a way only Heero understood. He had cannibalized at least six whole state-of-the-art computers just to make his own, and from he was saying, it was the best available yet. Wufei took his word on that stuff; he barely knew how to type anyway.
"How's the search going?" the black-haired boy asked, leaning over Heero to look at the screen.
"... annoyingly. He's hidden his traces well," Heero grunted after a while. "But I found some pictures of Milliardo on some jet-set archives."
He brought the pictures on the screen, and Wufei whistled.
"I don't know if he looked like that all his life, but he didn't look half-bad as a teenager."
It was an understatement. Milliardo Darlian looked like he was just a few years away from the status of Nordic god. Tall and slim, his blue eyes were surprisingly clear, nearly frozen, and his hair, an astonishing silvered blond, smoothly flowed down his back. A few bangs brushed his face.
"If the son looks like that, maybe it won't be so bad..." Wufei commented jokingly. Heero glared and drove his elbow in Wufei's belly. Smirking, the black-haired boy let him get away with it; he had asked for that.
"Jealous?" he asked, his tone sarcastic.
"Hardly," Heero commented in a bored voice, but the harsh way he typed showed that he wasn't that calm. Wufei knew what his problem was, though, and it was not jealousy. Heero was too intelligent to fear that Wufei would cheat on him in any way.
They had been together for more than nine years now. They had been childhood friends, had survived the streets together, becoming a thief tandem good enough to eat well and even save a little money, until they had been caught by the police and sent to the orphanage, where they had had to protect each other from the other boys, being the only Asian children in the place. When Heero had gotten an occasion to leave the orphanage behind, he hadn't even thought of leaving without Wufei, and they had managed to secure for themselves a place with one of Earth's most renowned politicians.
They knew fairly well that they were not brothers, had always known it. But claiming that they were had been, at the time, their only way to make sure that they weren't separated.
At thirteen, they had become lovers. They were already best friends, teammates, associates; partners in nearly every way. Becoming lovers as well hadn't been that big of a step.
"I am not changing my mind, Heero. I don't want that boy here, not now, not ever. We have too much to lose."
Heero glanced away from the computer just long enough to flash him a smirk.
"Good boy."
"Fuck you."
"I'm not even going to comment on that," Heero answered, turning back to his computers.
"'Che."
Abandoning his partner to his devices, Wufei walked to the center of the room and began stretching. He was taking martial arts lessons, and practiced each time he got the chance.
He let the bathrobe slip on the ground, then began his kata.
+
When he finished his kata and slid out of the total concentration mindset, it felt like hours after the beginning, and Heero was gazing at him, calmly sprawled in his chair, one leg crossed over the other.
"Did you finish the search?" Wufei asked, drying his sweat off with the bathrobe.
"Of course," Heero answered, turning his chair around to face the screens once more.
"So?" Wufei asked, leaning toward the table.
"Milliardo Darlian became Zechs Merquise twenty years ago. Married Lucrezia Noin two years later. Became an university teacher. Had a son, Duo, who is fifteen today. Lucrezia doesn't have any living relatives, apart from her younger half-sister Hildegarde Schbeiker, but Hildegarde is still underage. Plus they live in separate countries."
"You're saying that the closest living relative fit to take that boy in is Mrs Darlian?"
"Yes," Heero grimaced. "But he had some papers done to give a certain Treize Kushrenada help if he wants to take the boy in. He's not a relative so he has less of a chance, but with that paper, and if he wants to adopt him, maybe..."
"Let's hope for it," Wufei answered. "...Kushrenada? Isn't it the name of that foreign politician?"
"I think so. He's a political enemy of Mrs Darlian, so let's hope that she will not feel pressed to win the trial just to get one on him..."
Wufei growled.
"Let's talk about something else," he groaned. Heero smirked.
"Like the fact that you are getting goosebumps everywhere?" he asked, brushing a knuckle against Wufei's belly. "What an idea to practice naked in a cellar," he added, his tone mocking.
The black-haired boy bit back an acidic retort and tried to find something to say that would really annoy his partner.
"I can go get some clothes," Wufei answered, turning to leave, a wide smirk on his lips.
"Like hell!!!" Heero growled, and two seconds later, they were both sprawled on the couch, fighting to be on top.
+
"You bit me on the neck, you moron," grumbled Wufei once the afterglow had dissipated. "I hope to god it doesn't show or we're going to have a hell of a time explaining it."
Relena thought them brothers, and if ever she learned that they were lovers, she would be totally horrified. They didn't know what she would do in case she learned the truth. Maybe send them to different reform schools... maybe disown them both. Or provide them with years of therapy. And if they admitted that they had lied when they had told her they were brothers...
One word. Ouch.
Heero grunted in acknowledgement and rolled on the floor, still trying to get his bearings. "You'll just have to wear high-collared shirts and turtlenecks..." he smirked.
Wufei spat out a curse. He didn't know from where came Relena's obsession with buying him high-collared things, especially Chinese designs, but personally he was far from liking them. He hadn't hated it at first, but his adoptive mom's obsession with it was getting on his nerves.
The computer beeped at them, and Heero jumped up and ran to it.
Wufei shrugged on his bathrobe and padded to the other side of the room. It was bare and the only thing furnishing it was crates and crates of diverse stuff. The black-haired teenager began to verify the contents of the crates, to make sure that nothing had been damaged.
There was alcohol there, many different kinds, and some electronic devices, like video games, cell phones, radios and CD players. Early on, they had taken the habit of buying stuff on their weekends and selling it at their boarding school, making themselves a comfortable profit on the difference. Some of the other pupils were punished often enough that they nearly never came back home on weekends, and apart from watches, no electronic devices were allowed in the school. Of course, they were being extra cautious with that little traffic, because if they were caught Mrs. Darlian would probably send them to reform school until they were eighteen, but the streets had engrained it too deep in them for them to trust that she would always be there to provide for them. They weren't doing anything with the profits, really, just hiding it, waiting to be of age to put it in their bank accounts without the transaction being revealed to Relena.
"Did Sommerson finally decide what he wanted?"
"Two bottles of Vodka, one of Tequila, a GameBoy," Heero rattled from memory, not slowing down his typing.
"Ok," Wufei answered, digging out the demanded items and stacking them on the side. "Any other command?"
"No, that's all for that week."
"Slow week," Wufei commented.
"Hn," Heero answered absently, just to make sure that his partner knew that he wasn't being snobbed.
Wufei didn't hesitate often to mess with his computer when he was pissed at him. He had such a temper... But then, Heero was worse, in a way. He didn't need to feel pissed to retaliate. Never breaking their solidarity against external forces, their arguments could still last days and even weeks, ranging from the cold shoulder to the cold war, passing through a ton of mean variations on creative vengeance. Never physical violence, though. Never seriously beating on each other, no matter how pissed they were. They had seen enough abusive relationships to last them a lifetime.
+
At the end of the weekend, they were shipped back to boarding school. They spent two weeks hoping and praying that the Merquise brat would be sent somewhere else.
Alas, 'tis was not to come true.
I do not like that part. Let it be said. I don't know why, though. Someone enlightens me?
I can NOT find the f**ing way to write that scene where Relena comes and takes Duo from Treize's home!!! *wails* I had it in my head and all, and I got sidetracked, and now I don't remember how I wanted it! Injustice!! * bawls her eyes out*
I wrote it but it sucks, I'll have to write it again ;_;
Now, onto the part where duo dances under a sprinkler on the front lawn.
I wanna chat but no one is online ;_; Ok, ok, it must be late in the states, I know, but here it's night already *sniffle* Friday night...... I can stay online all night long!!! Mikke!!! Seraaaaa!!!! Where are youuuuuu!???!!!!! *sniffle* Tk?..... Mel? Christy?
....someone wanna chat? ;__;
I don't wanna draw. *pout*
Wufei got out of the shower and dried himself off as much as he could, then, shrugging on a bathrobe, padded silently to his room. He bolted the door to be sure that no one would enter and find him gone, and used the old servant's passage hidden at the other end of the walk-in closet.
Those passages had been in use when the house had been built, something like a hundred years ago, maybe more, but now, the only regular staff was the kitchen staff, two cleaning ladies and Pargan, and Pargan was probably the only one to still know about the passages, if even. It procured a secret way of going anywhere in the house without being seen; really great. Heero and Wufei had discovered and explored them together during long nights where the babysitter was too occupied with her sitcoms or her conversations on the phone to check on what they were doing, and now they nearly knew every passage by heart. No map, though; they didn't want anyone finding it and discovering their little secret.
Wufei descended the narrow stairs to the cellar, and padded to the badly-lit side, not caring about the dust and cobwebs. The door creaked when he opened it, and he slid in the room before closing the door behind him.
The room was surprisingly clean for a cellar, especially when you saw the state of the rest of the floor. There was, in a corner, an old but still good couch, a TV set, a small fridge, and just beside it, a table covered by computer parts, hard drives, screens, and at least three keyboards, all linked together in a mass of wires that probably connected in a way only Heero understood. He had cannibalized at least six whole state-of-the-art computers just to make his own, and from he was saying, it was the best available yet. Wufei took his word on that stuff; he barely knew how to type anyway.
"How's the search going?" the black-haired boy asked, leaning over Heero to look at the screen.
"... annoyingly. He's hidden his traces well," Heero grunted after a while. "But I found some pictures of Milliardo on some jet-set archives."
He brought the pictures on the screen, and Wufei whistled.
"I don't know if he looked like that all his life, but he didn't look half-bad as a teenager."
It was an understatement. Milliardo Darlian looked like he was just a few years away from the status of Nordic god. Tall and slim, his blue eyes were surprisingly clear, nearly frozen, and his hair, an astonishing silvered blond, smoothly flowed down his back. A few bangs brushed his face.
"If the son looks like that, maybe it won't be so bad..." Wufei commented jokingly. Heero glared and drove his elbow in Wufei's belly. Smirking, the black-haired boy let him get away with it; he had asked for that.
"Jealous?" he asked, his tone sarcastic.
"Hardly," Heero commented in a bored voice, but the harsh way he typed showed that he wasn't that calm. Wufei knew what his problem was, though, and it was not jealousy. Heero was too intelligent to fear that Wufei would cheat on him in any way.
They had been together for more than nine years now. They had been childhood friends, had survived the streets together, becoming a thief tandem good enough to eat well and even save a little money, until they had been caught by the police and sent to the orphanage, where they had had to protect each other from the other boys, being the only Asian children in the place. When Heero had gotten an occasion to leave the orphanage behind, he hadn't even thought of leaving without Wufei, and they had managed to secure for themselves a place with one of Earth's most renowned politicians.
They knew fairly well that they were not brothers, had always known it. But claiming that they were had been, at the time, their only way to make sure that they weren't separated.
At thirteen, they had become lovers. They were already best friends, teammates, associates; partners in nearly every way. Becoming lovers as well hadn't been that big of a step.
"I am not changing my mind, Heero. I don't want that boy here, not now, not ever. We have too much to lose."
Heero glanced away from the computer just long enough to flash him a smirk.
"Good boy."
"Fuck you."
"I'm not even going to comment on that," Heero answered, turning back to his computers.
"'Che."
Abandoning his partner to his devices, Wufei walked to the center of the room and began stretching. He was taking martial arts lessons, and practiced each time he got the chance.
He let the bathrobe slip on the ground, then began his kata.
+
When he finished his kata and slid out of the total concentration mindset, it felt like hours after the beginning, and Heero was gazing at him, calmly sprawled in his chair, one leg crossed over the other.
"Did you finish the search?" Wufei asked, drying his sweat off with the bathrobe.
"Of course," Heero answered, turning his chair around to face the screens once more.
"So?" Wufei asked, leaning toward the table.
"Milliardo Darlian became Zechs Merquise twenty years ago. Married Lucrezia Noin two years later. Became an university teacher. Had a son, Duo, who is fifteen today. Lucrezia doesn't have any living relatives, apart from her younger half-sister Hildegarde Schbeiker, but Hildegarde is still underage. Plus they live in separate countries."
"You're saying that the closest living relative fit to take that boy in is Mrs Darlian?"
"Yes," Heero grimaced. "But he had some papers done to give a certain Treize Kushrenada help if he wants to take the boy in. He's not a relative so he has less of a chance, but with that paper, and if he wants to adopt him, maybe..."
"Let's hope for it," Wufei answered. "...Kushrenada? Isn't it the name of that foreign politician?"
"I think so. He's a political enemy of Mrs Darlian, so let's hope that she will not feel pressed to win the trial just to get one on him..."
Wufei growled.
"Let's talk about something else," he groaned. Heero smirked.
"Like the fact that you are getting goosebumps everywhere?" he asked, brushing a knuckle against Wufei's belly. "What an idea to practice naked in a cellar," he added, his tone mocking.
The black-haired boy bit back an acidic retort and tried to find something to say that would really annoy his partner.
"I can go get some clothes," Wufei answered, turning to leave, a wide smirk on his lips.
"Like hell!!!" Heero growled, and two seconds later, they were both sprawled on the couch, fighting to be on top.
+
"You bit me on the neck, you moron," grumbled Wufei once the afterglow had dissipated. "I hope to god it doesn't show or we're going to have a hell of a time explaining it."
Relena thought them brothers, and if ever she learned that they were lovers, she would be totally horrified. They didn't know what she would do in case she learned the truth. Maybe send them to different reform schools... maybe disown them both. Or provide them with years of therapy. And if they admitted that they had lied when they had told her they were brothers...
One word. Ouch.
Heero grunted in acknowledgement and rolled on the floor, still trying to get his bearings. "You'll just have to wear high-collared shirts and turtlenecks..." he smirked.
Wufei spat out a curse. He didn't know from where came Relena's obsession with buying him high-collared things, especially Chinese designs, but personally he was far from liking them. He hadn't hated it at first, but his adoptive mom's obsession with it was getting on his nerves.
The computer beeped at them, and Heero jumped up and ran to it.
Wufei shrugged on his bathrobe and padded to the other side of the room. It was bare and the only thing furnishing it was crates and crates of diverse stuff. The black-haired teenager began to verify the contents of the crates, to make sure that nothing had been damaged.
There was alcohol there, many different kinds, and some electronic devices, like video games, cell phones, radios and CD players. Early on, they had taken the habit of buying stuff on their weekends and selling it at their boarding school, making themselves a comfortable profit on the difference. Some of the other pupils were punished often enough that they nearly never came back home on weekends, and apart from watches, no electronic devices were allowed in the school. Of course, they were being extra cautious with that little traffic, because if they were caught Mrs. Darlian would probably send them to reform school until they were eighteen, but the streets had engrained it too deep in them for them to trust that she would always be there to provide for them. They weren't doing anything with the profits, really, just hiding it, waiting to be of age to put it in their bank accounts without the transaction being revealed to Relena.
"Did Sommerson finally decide what he wanted?"
"Two bottles of Vodka, one of Tequila, a GameBoy," Heero rattled from memory, not slowing down his typing.
"Ok," Wufei answered, digging out the demanded items and stacking them on the side. "Any other command?"
"No, that's all for that week."
"Slow week," Wufei commented.
"Hn," Heero answered absently, just to make sure that his partner knew that he wasn't being snobbed.
Wufei didn't hesitate often to mess with his computer when he was pissed at him. He had such a temper... But then, Heero was worse, in a way. He didn't need to feel pissed to retaliate. Never breaking their solidarity against external forces, their arguments could still last days and even weeks, ranging from the cold shoulder to the cold war, passing through a ton of mean variations on creative vengeance. Never physical violence, though. Never seriously beating on each other, no matter how pissed they were. They had seen enough abusive relationships to last them a lifetime.
+
At the end of the weekend, they were shipped back to boarding school. They spent two weeks hoping and praying that the Merquise brat would be sent somewhere else.
Alas, 'tis was not to come true.
I do not like that part. Let it be said. I don't know why, though. Someone enlightens me?
I can NOT find the f**ing way to write that scene where Relena comes and takes Duo from Treize's home!!! *wails* I had it in my head and all, and I got sidetracked, and now I don't remember how I wanted it! Injustice!! * bawls her eyes out*
I wrote it but it sucks, I'll have to write it again ;_;
Now, onto the part where duo dances under a sprinkler on the front lawn.
no subject
awwwwwwww!
Yeah, I think you'd know better than me :P It may just be the difference between the feel I have of Wu and Heero and how they came out in the story. >_< Bah, if it works...
*cuddlesnuggle*