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[ categories: best comedy / parody, best fluff ] Title: Property of
Heero Yuy Property of Heero Yuy "I think we should sing this one." "I'm not singing *that*! It's crap!" Exactly how I ended up draped over the bar next to Trowa is beyond me. All I remember is agreeing to go out with him for a drink and before I knew it, one drink turned into two, which then turned into three, which then turned into...Well, I think you get the point. Want the cold, hard facts? The bar is propping me up while Trowa tries to talk me into singing karaoke with him. "Heero, come on! Everybody loves Grease!" Trowa tells me. "I've got shooooes, they're multiplying," he croons, reaching out for his shot glass and frowning when he finds it empty. I shake my head slowly, wondering why the room seems to be spinning right about now. "I'm pretty sure it's chills," I say, furrowing my brow for a second before relaxing my features. It hurts to think right now. "What about chills?" Trowa asks, motioning the barmaid over for another drink. "The song," I clarify. "I've got *chills* they're multiplying..." "Nope, it's shoes," Trowa says firmly. "That doesn't make any sense," I protest. "Why would shoes be multiplying?" Trowa shrugs. "I dunno? Maybe they were just feeling horny?" he suggests. For some reason, the idea of horny shoes strikes me as incredibly amusing and I throw my head back to laugh out loud. I soon regret it though as the sudden movement makes the room spin even more and I groan, grabbing out for the nearest available thing to steady myself with. "Heero, you're messing up my shirt," Trowa informs me with a pout, wrinkling his nose at me as I slowly release my hold on his arm. "Hnn," I reply, moving back to my safe spot, or in other words, the bar. I like this bar. It helps keep me upright and when my head starts to hurt too much, I can just rest my face on the cool surface and it makes all of my worries go away. Trowa laughs suddenly and I lift my head, peering at him through narrowed eyes. "What's so funny?" I ask. "You," he says, still grinning like an idiot. "And that little 'hnn' thing that you do." "Hnn," I say, unable to come up with a better response. "Hnn," Trowa mimics, making me frown. "HNN!" "HNNNN!" Trowa interrupts my next attempt, waving his arms excitedly. "I have an idea! Let's have a "hnn-ing" contest!" "A "hnn-ing" contest?" I repeat sceptically. "Yeah!" he replies, nodding his head vigorously. "We'll see who can "hnn" the longest, okay?" Well, I never turn down a challenge, so here goes. "After three," I tell him. "One...two...three..." I don't know exactly how long we've been sitting here, sounding like complete idiots, but I'm about to pass out from lack of oxygen. Damned if I'll let him beat me though. I refuse to fail this mission! Trowa's face is a rather alarming shade of red by this time and I'm surprised when he tips over backwards and falls off his stool. I stop "hnn-ing" abruptly and lean down to look for him. He's lying flat on his back on the floor, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. "Shit, Tro, are you alright?" He stops laughing for a moment and his voice drifts up to me from where he's sprawled. "Heero...I can see up your trousers!" He bursts into giggles again and I glare at him, reaching down and dragging him back up onto his stool. He sways precariously for a moment and then brightens. "Hey, we still haven't sung our song yet!" He leans in close to me, his nose almost touching mine. I snort with laughter when I see that his eyes are crossed as he tries to focus on me and he grins in response. "Wait here," he tells me, getting to his feet with my help. "I'll sally forth and clear things up!" I watch him totter off into the crowd, picking up his half-empty shot glass and downing what's left. I start getting impatient when he doesn't return right away and I wonder what's keeping him. I've just ordered more drinks for the both of us when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around slowly and my eyes widen at what I see. It's Trowa, grinning madly at me...and he's wearing a cowboy hat. "Where'd you get that?" I ask curiously. "This?" he asks, tugging the hat further down over his face. I nod, waiting for his reply, but he just stares at me for so long that I begin feeling a little worried about him. I'm just about to ask him what's wrong, when he blurts out, "I found it!" "Uh-huh," I say shaking my head and trying not to smile. Truth be told, he looks rather cute wearing that silly hat, his hair sticking out every which way. He grabs my hand and pulls me off my stool and I stagger slightly. "Come on," he says, leading me across the floor. "We have to sing our song!" "What did you pick?" I ask, keeping close to him so that I won't lose him in the throng of people. "You'll know it when you hear it!" he says cheerfully and I sigh, wondering how he managed to talk me into this. I feel more than a little ridiculous when we both take to the stage. He hands me a microphone and I take it with a scowl. Stupid things. Trowa grabs one for himself and coughs into it to see that it's working. Satisfied, he swings it as he waits for the song to start. "Ow! Trowa, watch where you're aiming that thing!" I snap when he bops me on the head with his microphone. He just grins in apology and I sigh. A few seconds later, the music starts and I cringe when I recognise the tune. Trowa is straight into it and I just stare at him in disbelief. "Mamaaaa just killed a man! Puta gun against his head...pulled the trigger now he's deeeeeaaaaad!" Usually Trowa has quite a pleasant singing voice...but not when he's completely hammered like he is now. He kicks me none too subtly and glares at me to sing along. I raise my eyes skyward in a "why me?" statement before figuring what the Hell and singing along with him. Much, much later when I was finally able to drag him off the damn stage, we find out coats and prepare to leave this Godforsaken place. "Heero, that was *awful*!" he admonishes me, struggling to fit his arm into the sleeve of his jacket. "You didn't even sing properly, you just kind of mumbled along while I did all the work!" "Oh yeah?" I retort. "Well at least I was better than you. You kept changing all the words, you giggled throughout the entire song *and* you sounded like a cat's choir." He starts snickering as he follows me out of the bar and I hear him mutter, "Cat's choir," to himself before breaking into laughter again. He stops when he realises that I'm hailing a cab. "What are you doing?" he questions, squinting at me. "What does it look like?" I reply, managing to straighten myself so that I won't fall into the road and get knocked down. "I'm getting us a ride back home." "But we can't go yet!" Trowa gasps, looking shocked. "We have to get a take-out!" I just stare at him as though he's gone completely mad. "You *have* to bring a take-out back home when you go out drinking," he informs me grandly. "It's the *law*." "Fine, fine," I grumble, starting off down the street in search of a take-out place, Trowa trotting at my heels and humming merrily to himself. I stop at the first place we find, not caring what they serve just so long as Trowa can buy his damn food and we can go home so that I can get some sleep. I push the door open and enter the shop, turning to look back when I hear muffled cursing behind me. Trowa's looking more than a little pissed as he tries unsuccessfully to get through the door. "What's wrong?" I ask, trying not to laugh at the statement on his face. "I can't fit my hat through the door!" he replies, looking as though he's about to burst into tears. Oh yeah, that's right. He's still wearing that idiotic hat. I snicker to myself, pulling the hat off his head and dragging him into the shop. "Thanks, Heero!" he chirps, taking back his hat. He frowns thoughtfully for a moment and then plonks it down on my own head. I look up at him in confusion and he grins. "Ride 'em cowboy!" he laughs, sauntering over to make his order. Ten minutes later, we finally hail a cab and we pile in the backseat, getting a strange look from the cab driver when he sees me with the hat and Trowa laden down with various bags of food. I manage to give him the address to my place before my head flops back against the seat and I close my eyes, sighing tiredly. I sense movement next to me and I open my eyes to see that Trowa is slumped against my shoulder, his face buried in my jacket. I smile slightly and let my eyes slip shut again. I'm almost asleep when the cab comes to a stop and the driver shouts out the fare. I nudge Trowa who only grunts in response. "Tro, get up," I say, trying to shift him. "We're here." He sits up groggily and peers out of the window. "This isn't my house," he says, sounding confused. "No, it's mine," I tell him. "It was closer." "Oooh, couldn't wait to get me in the sack, huh?" he asks, waggling his eyebrows at me. Great, looks like he's starting to perk up again. "Just shut up and pay the driver already," I mumble, picking up his neglected take-out bags. He nods agreeably and digs into his pocket, fumbling for a minute before handing something over to the driver. The guy raises his eyebrow and wordlessly hands Trowa's keys back to him. "I'm going to need a little more than that," he says with a smirk. Trowa sighs exasperatedly and digs in his pocket once more, giving a small sound of triumph when he finds his wallet. It takes him a while to get it open, but once he finds what he's looking for, he passes it to the driver who again raises his eyebrow. "What is *wrong* with you?" Trowa grumbles, glaring at the guy. I lean over to see what Trowa tried to pay him with this time. "Um, Trowa? That's an old bus ticket," I say helpfully. "It's a what?" He leans forward and squints at the object, then sighs in defeat. "Fine!" he says, throwing his wallet at the driver before getting out of the cab and tripping up on the sidewalk. Thankfully the cab driver is a decent guy and only takes however much it cost to get us here and I hand Trowa his wallet back as we stumble up to my apartment, leaning on each other for support. It takes me quite a few tries to get the key into the lock, but eventually we get inside and I take off my jacket and that damn hat, hanging them both up before going off to check on Trowa. I find him in the living room perched on the edge of the sofa and I sit down next to him. "Your food's in the kitchen," I tell him, waving a hand in front of his face to get his attention. "I'm not hungry," he replied, swatting at my hand as though it's an annoying fly. "You mean you bought all that food and you're not going to eat it?" I ask in disbelief. "Mm-hmm," he says, sounding somewhat distracted. After a couple if unsuccessful attempts, he catches my hand and looks at it curiously. I watch him as he turns my hand over and studies it, trying not to shiver when he lightly trails his fingers over my wrist and up my bare arm. "Trowa?" I say uncertainly. I'm not sure what he's up to, but the feel of his gentle fingers against my skin feels incredible. His fingers move slowly up my arm and then rest on my shoulder. "You have moles," he announces suddenly, breaking the spell he had me in. I blink up at him, trying to gather my wits. "Moles?" I repeat stupidly. "Moles," he says, nodding solemnly. His gaze brightens and he hauls himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. "Wait right here," he commands and I nod, watching him walk across to the desk where my laptop resides. He searches in the drawers and I hear a "ta-da!" He moves quickly back to my side (well, as quickly as one can move in an inebriated state) and grabs my wrist again. "What are you doing?" I ask, but he only shakes his head in reply. It's then that I see he's holding a pen in his hand and he starts drawing on my skin. "You're drawing on me?" He grins up at me momentarily before going back to his work, his brow furrowed in concentration. I know I should protest at the very least, but I don't. Mainly because I want to see where he's going with this and also because I like it when he touches me. He's sitting so close to me that his thigh is pressed against mine and I don't want that feeling of warmth to go away. He finally lifts the pen away from my arm and smiles down at his handiwork. "What do you think?" I burst out laughing when I see what he's done. A line runs from one mole to the next and it looks like Trowa has just been playing connect the dots on my arm. "Hmm, I can think of something better," I say. "Better?" he asks, looking a little upset. "But it's a masterpiece!" "I can top that," I say to him, rising up from the couch and leaving his warmth regretfully. It can't be helped; I have a mission to take care of. "So damned competitive," I hear him say from across the room as I rifle through the contents of my desk drawers. I know I put it here somewhere... I find what I'm looking for and make my way back to the couch. Apparently Trowa has grown tired of waiting for me because when I get back to him, it's to find him laid on his back, his eyes shut and I wonder if he's fallen asleep. Only one way to find out. I climb unsteadily up onto the couch and lower myself onto his lap. His eyes fly open and he gives me a saucy grin. "Mmm, hi, Heero." "Hi, Trowa," I reply absently, leaning forward to brush his hair back from his face, exposing his forehead to me. His eyes have fallen shut again and he sighs, his hips arching up slightly against me. I smile when I feel that he's hard and I know I'm getting there. He groans softly when our hips begin moving together in a slow, languid rhythm and it feels nice. It's better than nice, but right now I have a job to do. It takes me a few seconds to get the cap off the pen and it doesn't help when Trowa's hands start sliding up my thighs. Finally I manage to pull the stupid cap off and narrowing my eyes, I concentrate hard as I bring the tip of the pen down onto Trowa's forehead and carefully, I begin to write. He snickers quietly and I ask him what's so funny, trying to keep myself focused. "That tickles," he replies, wrinkling his nose. "What are you doing anyway?" "You'll see," I mutter, tightening my grip on the pen in surprise when his hands begin kneading my ass. I bite my lip to refrain from making any noises in response to his fondling, but it's difficult. I've wanted him to touch me like this for so long now and it figures he'd only do it when drunk. Still, I continue what I'm doing, keeping the hair away from his face with one hand and I try to keep the other one as steady as I can while I write. When I'm done, I proudly survey my work. It's a little smudged, but apart from that, it looks good. I suddenly realise that Trowa hasn't said anything for a while now and my gaze shifts from his forehead to his face. I smile when I see that his eyes are closed, his features relaxed. I poke his ribs lightly and hiss, "Trowa! Trowa, are you awake?" I sigh when he doesn't answer and let the pen carelessly slip from my fingers and onto the floor, laying my head on his chest. Trowa makes a good pillow, I decide as I close my eyes, following his example and allowing myself to succumb to sleep. ******* When I wake up, I'm none too pleased to find that I have a particularly nasty taste in my mouth. That coupled with a headache the size of Texas isn't really what I need first thing in the morning. Neither do I need that hair tickling my nose...wait a minute...I have hair tickling my nose that isn't my own? I pry my eyes open and that only seems to make my headache worse. I stifle a groan, but I manage to raise my head enough to investigate my current situation. My eyes widen when I see that I have a sound asleep Heero Yuy sprawled on my chest. I panic momentarily and then calm down when I realise that we're still fully clothed. At least I didn't do anything to embarrass myself then...or did I? I'd try and think, but it's too much effort right now. I vaguely wonder what I'm doing at Heero's apartment and how we came to end up on the couch like this. Then I stop wondering and clap a hand to my mouth, shoving Heero unceremoniously to the floor as I stagger to my feet. Luckily, I manage to find the bathroom in time before I lose the entire contents of my stomach. I don't know how long I stay propped up against the toilet seat, breathing slowly and steadily so as not to further upset my stomach. I don't look up when I hear him stumble in, but I start when I feel him place a hand on my back gently. "Are you alright?" he asks uncertainly. "Do I *look* alright?" I groan, closing my eyes. "I take it you're starting to regret drinking so much last night then," he says and damned if there isn't a hint of amusement in his voice. I scowl, pushing myself up and wiping a hand over my mouth and flushing the toilet before stumbling over to the sink. I turn the water on; splashing my face and that makes me feel a little better. I turn around to see Heero still standing there and I wonder what he wants. "Heero, what-" That's all I get out before his eyes widen and he claps a hand over his mouth. "Heero?" Wordlessly, he guides me back to the sink and motions for me to look in the mirror. My jaw drops in horror when I see my reflection and I glare at him. "What is the meaning of this?" I growl, pointing at the bold, black letters on my forehead, which proudly state, "PROPERTY OF HEERO YUY." His shoulders rise in a shrug. "I was drunk?" he offers. "No shit, Sherlock!" I snap, reaching for a nearby washcloth and dampening it with water, rubbing it over my skin vigorously. I take another look in the mirror, but the letters are still there, plain as day. "Here, let me try," he says, pushing past me. I yelp in surprise when he grabs the back of my neck and holds my head under the running water. I sputter helplessly for a moment before he pulls me back, attacking me with soap and a scrubbing brush. When he's finished, I'm starting to think that he's scrubbed the skin clear off my face and I scowl up at him. He gives me an apologetic shrug and I look back in the mirror to see if he had any success. The letters glare back at me and I bite my lip in frustration. "Heero...what exactly did you use to write on me with?" I ask slowly. He doesn't answer right away, but his statement is one of guilt. "I think I might have used a marker pen," he admits. "A marker pen?" I practically screech. "Dammit, do you know how long it takes to get that off your skin?" I stand there ranting and raving for a while and when I pause to catch my breath, he raises a hand to get my attention. "What?" I growl. "Sorry to make things worse, but you do realise that we're supposed to be at work in about half an hour?" He darts out of the bathroom before I can throttle him to within an inch of his life and I slump against the door miserably. When I finally leave the room, I almost crash straight into Heero who's trying to yank the sleeve of his Preventers shirt over one arm while tugging up his pants with the other. Seeing him getting dressed in a nice *clean* outfit brings to my attention that I'm still wearing the clothes I had on from yesterday and they're more than a little wrinkled. I sink down onto the couch and place my head in my hands. "I'm going to call in sick," I announce, watching him get ready. "You can't," he says casually. "We have the meeting with Une at 8:30, remember?" "I can't go looking like *this*!" I say, motioning to my current state of dress. "Not to mention the slight fact that a drunken idiot decided to scrawl all over my face last night." "Hey, you never did anything to stop me!" he says defensively. "You even seemed to be enjoying yourself." "How could I be enjoying myself if I had you scribbling over my face with that stupid pen and-" I stop suddenly, heat flooding my face as I remember what else had happened that night. Heero perched over my lap, his arousal rocking against my own...Oh, God, just when I thought things couldn't get any worse. Oh well, I should be grateful that that's *all* we did. I'm startled from my musings of misery when Heero begins unbuttoning my shirt. Before I can ask him what the Hell he's doing, he frowns up at me, batting my hands away. "At least let me run an iron over it before we set off," he says, getting the last few buttons undone and pulling the shirt off my shoulders. "We don't have time to go by to your place so you can get changed." I sigh in defeat, allowing him to take the shirt and then start when I feel his hands move to my belt buckle. "Dammit, Heero!" "I'll need to iron these too," he tells me and I can't figure out if he's teasing me or being dead serious. Resigning myself to my fate, I push his hands away and undo the belt myself, avoiding his gaze as I slip out of my pants and then hand them over to him. I feel more than a little ridiculous sitting here on his couch in nothing more than a pair of boxers, but thankfully it doesn't take him too long to see to my clothes. When he hands them back to me, they're slightly better looking than they were a few moments ago and I figure they'll just have to do. I dress hurriedly, noticing that he's still watching me and I can feel the blush heating my cheeks. Why is he watching me? Why doesn't he just turn away and give me some privacy? I'm still contemplating this when he leans forward and adjusts my tie. I'm secretly pleased at how much he's fussing over me this morning, but then I remember the writing on my forehead and scowl again. He's just trying to make up for it some how, trying to get himself back into my good graces. "And how am I supposed to deal with this?" I question, pointing to his handiwork. "Wear a bandana?" he suggests, earning yet another glare from me. "Look, it isn't like anyone ever sees your face anyway. Just don't move your head too much and no-one will see." He reaches a hand up to feather the hair over my face, this time obscuring not only my right eye, but my left one also. "Now I can't see anything," I complain and he fusses a moment longer until he smiles in satisfaction. "Just try to keep your hair like that and there shouldn't be a problem," he says, trying to sound reassuring, but failing completely. We make it to headquarters just in time, but when we finally get to the designated meeting room, it seems that just about everyone else has decided to turn up early. Hell, even Duo is already here, leaning back on his chair, Quatre anxiously telling him to sit on it properly before he falls over. Everyone glances up when we enter the room and I duck my head, hiding behind Heero as we find seats nearest the back of the room. Une bids us a good morning as we sit and I'm just about to nod in return when I remember my predicament and I settle for a mumble. Une begins the meeting, handing out folders to each of us in turn as she briefs us on our next mission. I barely listen to what she's saying. All the information I need is probably right here in these handouts and if I have any trouble, I can just go to Heero. Speaking of Heero, he keeps turning in his chair to glance at me and I raise my eyebrows, wondering what he wants. He motions to his hair and ducks his face and I figure out what he's getting at. I lower my head and ruffle my bangs over my face and he nods approvingly before turning his attention back to the meeting. After the third time this happens, Une seems to sense that our attention isn't where it should be. "Heero, Trowa, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?" she asks. Heero mutters a quiet, "No, ma'am," while I just shake my head. "Are you sure?" Une queries. "Both of you were late to this meeting and you don't seem to be paying too much attention to what I've been saying." She stops suddenly and stares at me and I fight the urge to fidget under her gaze. "Trowa, are you feeling alright?" she asks, sounding concerned. "I'm fine," I say hurriedly, just wishing she'd continue the briefing. The others have turned to look at me too and I slink down further in my chair. "Are you sure?" she asks, stepping down from her podium and walking over to me. "You look a little pale. You should have just called in sick instead of coming in here and allowing other people to catch your virus." "I'm not sick," I tell her, glancing over to Heero frantically for help. He just shrugs and I sigh, turning my attention back to Une who's now standing right before me. "I'll be the judge of that," she insists, placing a hand over my forehead. "No!" I say, brushing her hand away. "It's nothing, really." "What's this?" I feel my stomach sink when she pushes the hair from my face and I close my eyes in humiliation. When she speaks again, she sounds faintly amused. "Trowa, is there something you'd like to inform the rest of us?" "What's going on?" Quatre pipes up, leaning over in his seat to try and get a better look at me. "Trowa, is there something wrong?" He gets to his feet and comes to stand next to Une, mimicking her earlier gestures and pushing my hair aside. I watch him out of the corner of my eye and at first his face turns a rather fetching shade of red, but then he begins to giggle quietly. "What's so funny?" asks Duo, leaving his seat to find out what the fuss is. "Nothing," I say, jumping up from my chair and backing away from him. "Trowa has something written on his forehead," Quatre manages to get out amidst his giggles. "He does? Well what does it say?" Duo pushes past Quatre and tries to get closer to me, but I keep my distance, slowly making my way over to the door. "It says...it says..." Quatre dissolves into laughter once more and frustrated by the lack of answers, Duo moves before I can seize my chance to escape. He pounces at me, grabbing onto my jacket and standing on his tiptoes so that he can push my hair out of the way. I struggle to get loose, but he keeps a tight hold on me. "Let me go!" I snap, trying to pull free. "Nuh-uh, Tro-man," he tells me. "Not until I find out what has Quatre almost peeing his pants with laughter over there." When he finally reads the words on my skin, he's silent for a whole three seconds before he chortles with glee. "Property of Heero Yuy!" he crows, clutching at his stomach as he almost doubles over with laughter. "What's the matter, Heero, didn't want anybody else touching your boy toy?" I hide my face in my hands, my humiliation complete. I can hear the commotion around me and I wonder how Heero is taking this. I jump when I feel a light touch on my shoulder and I lower my hands, daring a glimpse. Heero stands before me, a slight blush staining his cheeks and a small smile quirking his lips. I open my mouth to ask what he's doing when he snakes a hand round my neck and pulls my mouth down to his. At first I'm too shocked to respond, but when he nips lightly on my lower lip, I open my mouth to him and his tongue pushes through, seeking entrance. When we part, it's to much cheering and whooping from the other occupants of the room. "Heero?" I ask breathlessly. "What was that for?" "Dammit, Trowa, can't you read?" he asks, sounding annoyed, but he's smiling at me. He taps my forehead with a finger thoughtfully. "You mean...you're not serious!" I manage, feeling somewhat shaken. "I've been meaning to make you mine for a long time now and although this way wasn't perhaps the best, I think it still got the desired results," he tells me with a smirk. "You mean you really want me?" I ask, still not quite believing this whole situation. He nods once, but his smile disappears, leaving him looking deadly serious, but also a little vulnerable. He leans up on his tiptoes to whisper in my ear. "Can I keep you, Trowa?" "Y-yes," I reply shakily and he pulls me back for another kiss, his every gesture screaming out, 'mine' and my lips curve into a smile against his. I will always be yours, Heero. Always and forever. End. |