Author: Anria Lalumin
Disclaimer: not mine. Never will be. Why, God, why?
Warnings: yaoi, sexual innuendo, language, Monty Python.
Pairings: 1x2x3 (or 3x2x1, or 2x1x3, or 1x3x2, or . . . you get the picture.)
Lizards = thoughts/emphasis
About Forever + Epilogue
"Heero! Duo! Trowa! Come on in!"
The corner of Trowa's mouth quirked up at Quatre's enthusiastic greeting.
God, would the ultimate description of him forever reside in the word
He followed his two lovers into the apartment, taking in the colourful
decorations with an assessing eye. Today was the fifth anniversary of
the Mariemeia incident, and so Quatre had decided they all had to get
together to 'celebrate another victory, that hopefully was a permanent
one this time'.
Otherwise known as a very good excuse to get together with your friends
and get, as Duo was fond of saying, "Com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced."
Trowa accepted the beer handed to him and sat beside Wufei on the couch,
returning his silent nod of greeting with one of his own. Duo made a bee-line
for the kitchen and the beer, Heero following in his wake.
Trowa had a feeling all Heero wanted to do was stare at his butt.
He took a sip of my beer and sighed, leaning his head back on the couch.
Duo had declared that tonight all he wanted to do was get drunk, and Heero
had his whole-hearted support in that. Which left him to wonder when the
hell they had both got such a taste for alcohol. It certainly wasn't any
time he could remember.
"Having fun with those two?" Wufei asked him, tilting his head
in the direction of the kitchen, where Quatre was trying to convince Duo
to leave at least a few cans in the fridge to keep them cool for
Trowa smiled at him -- something he could do more freely --
and replied, "Peachy. You?"
"Horny," he deadpanned, his face completely serious. Trowa choked,
and then started laughing.
"Yo, Tro-babe!" Duo stuck his head back into the room. He blinked
at his lover. "Something funny?"
Trowa waved a hand at him, still chuckling. "I don't think Quatre
would like me to repeat it," he told him, grinning.
"Don't think I would like you to repeat what?" the afore-mentioned
blond said, appearing behind Duo with a large bowl of crisps in his arms.
Trowa shook my head. "Nothing."
Quatre gave him a suspicious look, but said nothing, placing the bowl
on the coffee table lining the wall opposite him.
Duo bounced into the room, beer can in his hand, and plonked himself down
on the floor in front of Trowa, tilting his head back to grin up at his
lover before turning his attention to Quatre. "So, what's the plan
for today, Q-bean?" he asked.
Quatre blinked. "You know, I really hadn't thought of one,"
he said. "Maybe we could play truth or dare again?"
"No," was Heero's succinct response to that as he came out of
the kitchen. "Last time we played that I ended up flat on my face
Trowa snickered. "You were drop-dead drunk," he reminded
the Japanese man.
Heero scowled at him before throwing himself on the couch, head in Trowa's
lap and feet on Wufei's. "You would remember that," he declared
flatly before taking a drink from his bottle.
Wufei glared down at his friend. "Yuy, would you kindly refrain from
using me as a footstool?" he asked acerbically. "Some
of us find being relegated to being part of the upholstery demeaning."
"I'll swap with ya, Wu-chan!" Duo declared, and unceremoniously
shoved the Chinese man off the couch before telling Heero to 'budge over,
you fat bastard' and curling up in the exact same position as said 'fat
Trowa gave Wufei a sympathetic look. "At least you're not consistently
used as an armchair for two grown men who are more than a bit bigger than
"You're comfy, Tro-babe," Duo told him cheerfully.
Heero mumbled something. "What was that?" Duo asked him, peering
over his shoulder.
". . . not a fat bastard. . . ."
Quatre giggled at Heero's petulant tone even as Duo laughed, took his
beer from his hand, and pulled that arm tight around him. "'Course
you're not, babe," he said. "I just wanted to tease you a bit,
Heero grunted, then tightened his arm around Duo and nuzzled the back
of his neck. Trowa gave their hosts an exasperated look. "Gomen,"
he said. "They both just have this thing about acting childish when
not on a mission . . . something about deprived childhoods. . . ."
"You do it too, Tro-babe," Duo informed him. "You just
refuse to do it where other people can see you. Apart from us, that is."
"Noooooo! He's caught the dreaded Heero disease!"
"Duo. . . ." said man growled warningly.
"Yes?" The American plastered a near-perfect imitation of Quatre's
angelic smile on his face as he peered back into exasperated blue eyes.
Heero tilted his head up to look at Trowa. "Remind me again why we
put up with him?"
"Three-way sex," Trowa deadpanned.
"Too much information," Wufei declared, having now ensconced
himself on the other sofa, where he was less likely to be shoved out of
the way by two pairs of feet. "I believe a subject change is in order."
"Okay, instead of talking about our sex life, let's talk about yours
and Quatre's," Heero said in his usual monotone.
As Wufei sputtered that some things should remain private, Trowa reflected
that they had been very lucky in people's reactions to their relationship.
Quatre had blinked and looked startled for a moment, but after thinking
about it for a short while had declared that it was most likely the only
way that all three of them would be happy. Wufei's reaction had been the
most surprising of all -- he had smirked and told them it was about
damn time. Which left Trowa to wonder precisely how Wufei had come
to that conclusion -- and what he had been doing thinking about
the three of them together in the first place.
Not everyone had been as understanding. Une had refused to speak to any
of them for days, before finally deciding that having the Preventers fully
functional and not divided because of personal preferences was more important,
and had tried her very best to ignore it. She was coming around, now,
after having two full years to get used to the idea, and had surprised
all of them by making wisecracks about it at infrequent intervals.
Some people looked on their relationship as completely immoral. They refused
to have anything to do with any of the three pilots, and would actively
scorn them if ever in their presence. But then, that was only to be expected,
and thankfully no one truly close to any of the pilots had reacted that
way. Une had been taking great pains to ensure that the people in Preventers
who reacted that way were never put on a field mission of any kind with
one of the pilots, lest their antagonism get in the way of a potentially
dangerous situation. Not that Duo, Trowa and Heero couldn't handle themselves
in a fight -- far from it. Une was more worried about the other
Most people just thought it wouldn't last. They weren't angry about it
or, like some, offended about something that had absolutely nothing to
do with them -- they just thought the three of them were making
a mistake that would cost them their friendship.
Well, Trowa thought, we've certainly proved them wrong.
Two years. Two whole years of living with his two lovers, arguing with
them, working with them, going out with them, just plain loving
Life couldn't get any better than this.
"I know what we should do!" Duo suddenly declared loudly, sitting
up and attracting Trowa's wandering attention while dislodging Heero's
arm. An impish grin dawned on the American's face. "Strip Twister!"
Okay, maybe life could get better than this.
Several hours, and quite a few bottles of beer later:
"Okay, Trowa, left foot, red dot."
"How the fuck am I supposed to do that?" Trowa grumbled. He
was in a perfect crab shape on the mat -- which left his left foot
diagonally opposite the only free red dot. And Duo had somehow managed
to get in a position where he was sprawled all over him. Literally. Not
that Trowa was complaining, mind, but it was going to make this manoeuvre
"Duo, can you lift up a bit? I need to swing my leg round."
"Sure thing, Tro-babe," Duo replied cheerfully, using his superior
height to hoist himself up from where he had been (deliberately, Trowa
was sure) rubbing him in certain strategic places.
Quatre had managed to talk the braided man out of the playing Strip Twister,
on the stipulation that whoever lost a game had to do some humiliating
dare like singing "Hit Me Baby One More Time" to the people
in the apartment opposite Quatre's.
Thankfully, nobody had been so cruel as to charge anyone to do that so
Trowa concentrated on moving his leg up under Duo, and twisting his body
to the right so that he could plant the foot down without losing his touch
on any of the other dots. He blessed his time in the circus as he just
made it, body contorted into a shape that looked very uncomfortable.
Wufei, sitting across from where he was now facing, gaped at him. "Barton,
I know you did acrobatics before, but this is ridiculous!" he declared.
"You ought to see what he can do in bed," Heero muttered, trying
to concentrate on not falling over. About the only thing propping him
up (he'd had far too much to drink again) was Duo's leg, stretched out
under him to a spot on the other side.
"I'd rather leave that to you, thank you," Wufei informed him,
still gaping at Trowa's contortion. It left him doing the splits in the
air, shoulders twisted to prop himself up on the hands behind him. "I
have much greater flexibility in most from my katas," he told Trowa,
"but there is no way in hell I could ever get into that position
without breaking something."
In a rare fit of impishness, Trowa grinned, then tsked and shook his head.
"Getting old, Fei-Fei," he said in mock ruefulness.
Duo snorted. "Okay, Heero's turn! Spin, Q-man, spin!"
Quatre and Wufei had decided that the board was far too small for all
of them, and so had sat out. Since he had both hands free, Quatre was
spinning for everyone.
"Heero! Right hand, yellow dot."
It was perhaps unfortunate that the only free yellow dots were right underneath
Trowa. It was also unfortunate that Heero had had far too much to drink
and was having difficultly controlling his limbs as he reached for one
of them. The end result of this was that he fell down directly onto Duo's
leg, who, faced with the options of falling over or having a broken limb,
collapsed directly onto Trowa. Trowa, of course, fell with an "Oof!"
in his wonderfully uncomfortable position.
A muffled voice came from the vicinity of Heero's head, buried in the
"S'okay!" Duo jumped to his feet, grinning madly. He hadn't
had as much to drink as he usually did, which meant he could actually
speak and be understood. "I've got just the dare for you,
Heero, my man!"
"What?" Heero asked suspiciously, clumsily trying to help Trowa
to his feet.
Duo was rummaging through Quatre's CDs, trying to find what he was looking
for. "Aha!" he declared in triumph, waving one of the them over
his head. He walked over to Heero and presented him with the CD with a
"Your dare, my good sir, is to sing Monty Python's 'Medical Love
Song', from start to finish." Duo was grinning like a maniac as he
"Okay," Heero surprised everyone by saying -- and then
shocked them further by not needing the words in the CD's insert. "Inflammation
of the foreskin/ reminds me of your smile. . . ."
"Duo, did you really have to do that?" Trowa asked with a pained
"Yep!" The braided man threw himself down in Trowa's lap, wrapping
an arm around his neck. "C'mon, this is the Great Heero Yuy
singing about sexual infections. I just had to!"
"I just want to know how he knows it. . . ."
"Your trichovaginitis/ sent shivers down my spine,/ I got snail tracks
in my anus/ when your spirochetes met mine. . . ."
"I should damn well hope not," Trowa muttered into Duo's hair,
causing the other man to snicker.
Quatre was watching Heero with something akin to desperation on his face.
"Allah. . . ." he squeaked. Heero made a very comical sight
-- he had fallen over so he was flat on his back, and was waving
his arms around as though conducting an orchestra, while singing the song
without a hint of expression on his face.
"It gets better, Q-man, don't worry," Duo told him.
"My clapped out genitalia/ is not so bad for me,/ As the complete
and utter failure/ every time I try to pee./ My doctor says my buboes/
are the worst he's ever seen,/ My scrotum's painted orange/ and my balls
are turning green!"
"I hadn't noticed," Duo said with a perfectly straight face.
"Maxwell, did you really have to?" Wufei asked with a pained
"Anterior u-ve-i-tis!" Heero finished with a flourish, then
"Thank God that's over," Quatre said, then began determinedly
folding the Twister set away. "We are NOT playing this any more,
if that's the result."
Duo protested immediately. "Aw, c'mon, Q-bean, just one more game?"
"It was worth it, wasn't it, just to hear Heero sing that?"
Something nudged Trowa's thigh. He looked down to see it was Heero, smiling
up at him. Trowa smiled back, then sighed and shook his head as he tightened
his arms around Duo, giving his other lover a rueful look that was sympathetically
The green-eyed man let out a breath and relaxed, tipping his head back
and closing his eyes. A moment later there was a solid warmth at his back,
and he leaned back into Heero, still cradling the much larger form of
Duo in his lap.
This was worth it. Every snub he had to put up with, every person who
looked at him in pity because they thought he was making a bad mistake,
every time they had the irritant of finding furniture and other things
that suited three people, not two, it was all worth it for this. To have
Duo curled up against him as he argued with Quatre, one of Heero's hands
lightly caressing his wrist, the other one linking its fingers with Duo.
To have Wufei look at the three of them and smirk before hauling The Blond
To listen to Heero sing the Medical Love Song and make cracks about his
Trowa sighed and leaned his head back on Heero's shoulder, smiling.
He was happy.
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