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"Recycled Valentine "Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language Pairings: 1x2, 3x4 Summary: A Valentine's Day themed romance encompassing all the young men Thanks to Waterlily for all the editing and humor
to keep me going "Recycled Valentine " Chapter 1 Time to go. Heero picked up his keys and stood to look out the window. As soon as he was ready to go to the office, the trucks would block his escape route. He watched the sanitation truck move away and the recycling one pull right behind, blocking his driveway. It happened every week, like clockwork, which he had come to appreciate only for that precision, since he'd moved into the house. Of course, he knew that he could leave the house a few minutes earlier to ensure perfect punctuality. As the boss, he believed it was important to set an example. But, there arose a development. There he was! Heero set security and opened the door. It closed behind him, lock engaged. The first time Heero had noticed the man it had been summer. The worker had waved, just a brief, clipped touch to his cap brim, drawing Heero's eyes to the rainbow patch, and then he had dumped the glass-collection container. The outrageously long braid had swung to one side as he'd whisked the piles of cardboard into the open maws of the truck. Heero had just enough time to notice how the snug jeans clung to slim hips, how the neatly-pressed uniform shirt with the sleeves rolled up showed pale skin over rippling muscles, and how an open collar, plus the next two buttons left unfastened, revealed a glint of gold chain and a tat, the details of which were too fine for him to make out from that distance. He'd need his binoculars in the future. Heero had been conflicted from that point on. He had asked himself multiple times if he should he gather his courage and greet the man, opening the door to getting to know him, or, the easier course, should he just avoid the entire uncomfortable situation and tell him to park the truck five feet further to clear his driveway? A few months ago, he had lost patience with his indecisiveness and shouted at the man. "Move it!" He had watched as the worker's smile disappeared. The handsome features had crumpled; the large eyes peeking out from under a fringe of chestnut-colored bangs had held his in wonder then dropped. He'd done that! It had been his harsh tone that had caused injury and Heero instantly regretted his ill-conceived shout out. "In a hurry this morning, sir? I'm sorry. Be gone in less than in minute!" Heero had abruptly reconsidered his approach and apologized. "No, the problem's mine. I can wait." He'd had to wait. He'd had no choice but to remain frozen in place; his feet hadn't obeyed him! He'd been immobilized by a stunning smile blasting a path of happiness his way. "No problemo!" Since then, Heero had lingered on the front porch until the man came, watching for the jaunty tip of the cap and flash of smile before he left. Every other week was his pickup schedule in Heero's area. He had attached the magnet reminder to his refrigerator; much like a parent might display a treasured work of art from an amazingly talented son or daughter-front and center. He was still conflicted, but less so. Now he wanted to meet the recycler; he just wasn't sure how to go about it. Yes, there he was. Today, he wore a quilted vest against the frosty morning air and the same cap, the one with the rainbow patch, the only clue that maybe, maybe, he was gay, too, and that getting to know him better might lead to better things. His heart warned him, maybe. The tight jeans just added unnecessary fuel his scorching-hot dreams. A wave, the clatter of receptacles being emptied, and then he was gone, servicing the house two doors down, his last before the truck turned the corner to continue his route. Heero slipped into his car and started the engine, this time with a sigh. This had been going on for months. If he wasn't so damn shy and awkward, he would have started a conversation by now, introduced himself, found out if there was some reverse attraction possible. He should at least say "hello". He checked the rear view mirror, and the recycle truck was out of sight. Gone. Too late to say anything now. (o) Thin rays of wan sunlight dared to find its way onto Heero's monitor screen. He adjusted the office's window louvers with his automatic wand giving the matter no further thought as he reviewed his day's calendar and notes for the open projects. A gentle bell tone interrupted the barely perceptible hum of the air vent, and the vid screen changed fluidly from blank to "Receiving incoming call." It was from his closest friend. "Q, this is early for you. What's wrong?" "Wrong? Nothing! I just have so much to do, what with the holiday coming up and everything. I was hoping we could include a few errands after lunch today?" "Holiday?" He had no days off sullying his wide-open, pristine schedule of endless workdays, one after one alike, reliably predetermined, - "A fun one! Valentine's Day!" - and now doomed. "Some fun." Heero hated to share his scant free time with his friend with anyone or anything, stupid, time-wasting errand in particular, but he didn't want to jeopardize the treat either. "If there's no other way." Ah, the guilt. He learned some time ago that by applying guilt in just the right ways he could influence Quatre and shape his actions. "I'll try to restrain myself. I don't want to give up any of our time either. You know I treasure it! But it's only a quick stop at the confectionery shop-" "Stop." "Yes?" "What is a confectionary-?" Heero looked at his laptop having looked up the term. "Sweet meats?" "Yes, a sweet shop!" Quatre sounded so agreeable. Heero was feeling oh, so colonial in the cosmopolitan Sanc. "Or, a candy store." Heero heard a crinkling of paper and then his friend continued talking. "Yes! Oh, and the bank, that's all." "Bank? You use internet banking, surely-" "I'm getting cash, Heero. Real money." "What for?" "For presents! The cook, the postman, the janitor, my chauffeur, gardener, everyone gets a generous tip!" "On Valentine's Day?" What foul new notion was this? "Of course! Children like candy but the hard working people that carry out the day to day tasks you depend on appreciate money, don't you agree?" "Probably," Heero agreed, knowing that his friend was giving him an out for just being a social moron. "You can get your presents together at the same time. The bank provides envelopes. We can buy pretty cards!" Cards? Gifts for the help? Was there no end to it? Who did he have to gift anyway? God, Sanc customs. Would this place ever feel like home to him? "I don't know. Isn't it more of a..." He hated his hesitation at even the mentioning the starry-eyed, commercial occasion. "...a romantic event?" "Oh, you are so colonial, still! Of course there is that part of Valentine's Day. But, no, silly, it's another appreciation day for us businessmen. For instance, you have a postal delivery man who comes every day to your house-." "I've never been there to see him or her." "Nevertheless, you have one. Who mows your lawns? Cleans your house?" "I do. Q, you know I don't have servants." "Yes, I'm teasing you. Trying to make you think. You must have trash and a man who takes it away, at least! Hmmm... It's a good idea to reward your best customer, although a bottle of good whiskey is often more appropriate there. Your office building's door man! That poor old withered up soul." "That old man retired with benefits better than I've got, and you know it. It's your building. I could tip the new guy, though, if you say that's how things are done here. Okay, I've got the idea. Sanc is an expensive place to do business." "But it pays the bills!" "Bills that mount up when you have a house," he grumbled. "There's always something needing repair." He listened to his friend laugh, something he enjoyed. He'd moved to the capital city from off colony at his bequest, with mostly good results. His innovative TechSolutions company flourished here, even if his social life was still floundering. His shyness made making friends a slow process. On the up side, though, he certainly got to see Quatre more, making the change worth every dollar miss-spent and problem incurred. Like finding a place to live. He had intended to move into a swanky condo near his downtown offices, something ultra-modern, sleek, masculine, like he imagined himself to be in the future. The prices had made his head spin, so he he'd given up and rented a modest house. "I told you, a house in the Cottage Grove area would be affordable and the commute tolerable," Quatre reminded him, "not cheap. Everything is pricy here. And don't forget that the luxury, downtown apartments charge homeowner fees to cover maintenance." "I...know. And I used your recommendation. I just thought...I could find something more ... me." The "me" he'd like to be like. "Your offices are affordable because I can cut you a deal in that building. I'm sorry housing has been impossible." Not impossible, just frustrating. Heero had followed his friend's advice- it was usually reliably good-and chose to rent a house out of town, until he found exactly what he was looking for. A year later, he was still renting the house. "Not your fault." He had a list of things to do and time was marching on. "We'll meet at the same time, same place as before then?" "Yes, I haven't had time to be creative and find us a new luncheon spot. Oh! Wait! You still there?" "Yes, what else?" "You know Zechs is returning-" "You told me. Is that all?" Heero didn't want to ruin a peaceful morning with thoughts of Zechs. "No! Don't rush me. Relena called-" -or of Relena for that matter- "-She's giving a welcome home gala for him the same night of my annual Valentine's Day fete, which isn't fair to our mutual friends, so we're combining it into a single-" -"Catastrophe." Heero just knew it would be, given the individuals involved. "-Party. Heero, you can be so...vexing at times! It will be the event to bring the winter season to an end." "I won't go." There, that would end all speculation on his behalf. "I'd like you to." Quatre had pitched his voice to "beg with a touch of guilt". "You know how I feel about social functions." Heero coughed. Even he could hear the whine in his voice, but this holiday with those people especially rubbed him raw. "Yes, I know. I remember-." Heero cut off his friend's thoughts. "I've avoided her and her brother up until now." He didn't want to talk about old times. "Excuse me. I have another call. I have to go." "Just consider it? I'll see you at lunch." Errands to run and now a palace party! Two aggravations to disturb his meal and time with his friend! (o) Heero waited five minutes for Quatre to arrive. He spotted the blond head bobbing past the door and stood at his table to catch his attention. "I'm sorry!" "Don't worry about it," Heero assured him. "I came early to get us a table." "And avoid the queue. Good idea." Quatre opened the menu out of habit then closed it. They always ordered the day's special. "I was afraid you might change your mind and not come after all." "Why's that?" This irritated Heero. He never missed a chance to see his best friend. "You seemed so angry on the phone." "I'm not ANGRY." But he was. Even he could tell his voice was raised, his face hard. He drew in a calming deep breath like he'd been taught by his good friend, his mentor in many ways. Did he need therapy for "Interminable shyness"? Anger management? Quatre had mentioned "Narcissistic personality disorder" once. Was it that serious? Now that the business was established, he wondered if it was time to deal with his mental health, take care of his needs. It was easier to blame his friend. "You changed the routine." Actually, Quatre had only added a trip to the bank, thrown in a candy store, and then he mentioned acquiring some damned cards... But, everything was within walking distance and the exercise was a good thing. If only the errands hadn't come on top of the party proposition! "Oh, Heero," Quatre clucked. "That's something you need, remember? You told me spontaneity was missing from your life." "I moved here. That was change enough." "And then you fall right into your old habits." "That's natural. Old habits are a comfort. And so is wanting to avoid parties with people I detest." "I know," his friend said with momentary sympathy. "But, you can't avoid powerful people like them forever. Besides," Quatre leaned close and patted his chest as he whispered the rest, "I brought incentives." He straightened when a shadow fell over them, and smiled at the waitress. "Two specials. Water's fine." Heero's eyes never left his friend's boyish face, even as pictures of his past mistakes flashed in his mind. Relena had chased after him in college, and then had found him with Zechs that time he'd let down his defenses and gone alone to Zechs' room. Why had he done a rash thing like that? Ah, yes; he'd never forget. He'd been so damned depressed after having his heart crushed by his first love. He dropped his crumpled napkin onto his lap and smoothed it out. "I don't want to be in the same room with the princess, or prince for that matter. You know that. You know that had kept me out of Sanc for years. You promised me-" Complaining wasn't getting him anyplace. Knowing that his friend was a sucker for puppy eyes, big sad orbs begging for mercy, Heero stopped his verbal assault and took a new tact, based on Quatre's own words. "Tell me about the incentive." Heero appreciated that Quatre had the smarts not to laugh at him; instead, he reached inside his cashmere overcoat and pulled out a short stack of envelopes. "Invitations," he said as he removed the coat entirely and arranged it over his chair. "These are like gold. Everyone who is anyone will die for one of these, and you have," he peeled off the top few, "these." They could have been raw meat from the way Heero glared at them. "Think, my friend. You have people to impress. I'm sure you do. A potential client? Special someone?" No special someones. "You want me to rope people into going to this crazy party?" Quatre screwed up his face for a moment, holding back an emotional retort, then relaxed. He still kept his tone light but his words clipped and to the point. "It's an invitation-only event, which will be the highlight of the winter-especially yours. Ha, ha! Just kidding! Eligible young men and women are singularly sought after and welcome." "And I know people like that?" "You are one." "I-? I'm not available to...her... or him." He swallowed away the halting stammer with a gulp of water. Quatre was nothing if not persistent. "You'll never know who you might meet there." "It's not the unknown that bothers me." Heero gave up arguing. He had run out of ammunition. Luckily, lunch's arrival interrupted their discussion. The place had filled to capacity, the noise level competing with conversation, so they concentrated on eating and drinking. Quatre stood when Heero was finished and paid the bill, his turn this time. "Confectionary shop first." Quatre smiled. "I mapped out the path of least inconvenience." "I appreciate that." "I did it solely for your benefit." "Of course." The corners of his mouth curled. Quatre laughed like he was supposed to. "Have you decided how much you'll need?" he asked, shading his green-blue eyes from an errant ray of sun. "Oh, of course you have. What am I asking? You probably have your candy needs calculated to the ounce, am I right?" Heero hadn't even considered that problem. "One." "One, what? Box? Bag? Certainly you don't mean a single candy?" They had entered the store, a Candyland of color and sweets. A lance of pain passed through Heero's brain from the blend of scents and visual assault. Choices, so many, many varieties to select from! He watched his friend pick out already mixed boxes while checking names off a list. He had no list. He did want to leave and so as not to be the one to hold up progress, he grabbed a bag, the first at hand. It looked small. What if he needed more? For who? For why? He didn't know. He scooped up ten more bagged assortments at random and paid cash, because it was faster than digging out his credit card. He met Quatre's eyes, defying him to question his choice of "one." "Next?" "One cart load, I see." Quatre chuckled. "Moving right along- My bank is right around the corner and over the next block." "Right." "Oh, don't be upset." "I'm not." But of course he was. "I resent being manipulated." He preferred to be the one doing it to others. As much as he knew he had the power to refuse, he knew Quatre had reasons for encouraging him to accept. "You're the control freak," Quatre returned. "I'm just doing what a friend should do and helping you out of that self-imposed shell you hide in and stop glaring at me. You need to get out and meet people. And yes, I do sympathize, a little, with your position, Heero. The Peacecrafts aren't my favorite people either. But they run the city state of Sanc. They are important not to offend." He added in a lowered tone, "I'm confident that he's reformed since you knew him." "Hn." Heero seriously doubted that the man he knew as Zechs Merquise had undergone any wonderful transformation. A metamorphosis from one form of obnoxious sod to another, perhaps. He had read a book by that name and had liked the ending. Maybe Zechs would scuttle under his bed and die? Heero thought about how that would improve his life. "'Hn' is not a word!" Quatre stressed the negative. "I won't offend the ruling class," Heero promised. "But it's a mistake for Relena to let him return." Of course, he'd never told Quatre just how far he'd gone with Zechs and that he'd made the first move and that he wasn't as dominant as he thought he was, or anything else. Not that he thought he needed to. Quatre professed to know everything and seemed to know everything going on inside his head, or more precisely, in his heart. It was eerie. From the moment they'd met at a silly college frat party, Heero had sensed that Quatre was more sensitive than other boys. No one else had cared enough to talk to him. Maybe he should have noticed just how perceptive his friend truly was, although he hadn't at the time. Heero had eventually learned just how strongly empathetic Quatre was. Heero had worried himself sick over his friend's involvement with a terrible boy, and it spilled over into Quatre's psyche, sending him to the clinic with a killer migraine. Later, Quatre had thanked him. As it turned out, the boy had been troubled and had been out to use Quatre to promote his dangerous causes. Why Quatre had connected with Heero's strong motions and not the other boy, he had explained away as "special closeness." Heero had interpreted that to be love. So, Heero had watched over Quatre even more closely. He hadn't deemed his friend to be adept at culling out the quality men from the ones that wanted him for something other than his money and rank. He had believed Quatre should demand more, that he should realize how perfect Heero was for him, that he should love him back. And then Quatre had moved away to Sanc, putting distance between them that was more than just physical. Heero re-considered his last thought. Quatre only seemed to know everything going on inside his head. Maybe that wasn't true. Maybe Heero had interpreted a lot of things wrong. Quatre hadn't been involved with any other terrible matches and hadn't needed Heero to protect him. There had been that one scare, however: Before moving to Sanc he'd received a call from Quatre after attending a Sanc society event. "I ran into Zechs again-" Instinctively, Heero's protective mode kicked in as he imagined Zechs attaching himself to his best friend. He might have growled. "- with an attractive Italian girl on his arm." "So he's dipping into the other half of the gene pool," Heero had said, somewhat relieved to hear that there was no danger to his friend's heart. "Apparently. He's rumored to be engaged to the owner of a chain of Chinese restaurants, but from what I saw, it must have been just rumors. He really does seem to have matured gracefully." Possibly. "Heero! Just try to be open-minded about the prince, that's all I ask." "My mind is open. Unless he's found a doctor to give him a 'character uplift' with 'personality replacement therapy', I expect to find Zechs unchanged." "Oh, Heero. I will do everything I can so you won't have to spend a moment of time around him, or her either. Besides, they'll be surrounded by others who'd give anything for a wink of recognition, and you'll be meeting new people." "The simpering multitudes." Heero smiled. "I won't hold you to that promise, either." "I mean it!" "I know, but you can't control Relena if she's intent on something. I wouldn't put it past her to have arranged all this just to make me come see her." And possibly publicly humiliate him while she was at it? "Ha! Don't think too highly of yourself, do you?" "I am special." Heero joined him in a chuckle. Friendship mended. He followed his friend's example and withdrew some cash and requested a few envelopes of his own. He shuddered to see Quatre file an alarming amount of money into his interior coat pocket. "We should get you a body guard." Quatre shook his head and then smiled. "You are sufficient," he said, humoring Heero. The teller must have overheard Heero, because she leaned over the desk to get their attention. "Sir? Please wait a moment for our security to accompany you. Bank policy, actually, for you to leave the building safely." "Really, it is not necessary," Quatre reasoned. "I disagree." The voice came from behind them. Heero turned at the sound to find a nice-looking man staring at them. Make that glaring at them. "Chang Wufei!" Quatre greeted the uniformed man. "I didn't know Preventers was supplying guards." It wasn't a good time for a social meeting, Heero thought, as the slight, armed, Chinese man blushed in the other man's embrace. "It's temporary." Wufei stepped aside and out of Quatre's loose clasp. "You see, as nice as it is to see you again, I don't need-," the blond began to explain why he should have things his way. "This draws attention to you," the guard said, lowering his voice. "Come this way." Heero grabbed hold of his friend's elbow and turned him around. "Back exit?" Wufei stuck close to Quatre's other side, and exchanged an appreciative glance with Heero. "Yes." "Well." Quatre sniffed and shook off Heero's hand. "Let's go. My building is walking distance." "We choose our destination restaurant based upon intersecting Venn diagrams," Heero explained. It was as interesting as most things people said to him. Wufei's left eyebrow lifted in question. Quatre gave Heero's shoulder a well-meaning pat. "This is my dearest friend, Heero Yuy, who runs his own technical device design studio here in town." And manufacturing, Heero added, but only in his head. Very few people were interested in hearing about business details, and if his friend wanted to glamorize the sound of what he did, let him. Heero and Wufei exchanged manly nods of mutual respect. That was all that was necessary. "I should leave you now," Wufei told them once he'd accompanied them to the street. "What? And leave us to the mercy of the public?!" Quatre said with mock surprise. "Nonsense. You've safeguarded us well this far, you must accompany us the rest of the way to my office." No one pointed out how vulnerable Heero would be walking alone on his return trip to his business, but then Heero didn't appear at risk of being jumped by mugger. His guarded stance, formidable expression, and aggressive walk worked together to create an invisible barrier to attack. Alternatively, Quatre shined cosmic trust and vulnerability from his pores. Wufei appeared to waver in his decision. Intimidating others wasn't Quatre's way. He had other powers. He could bend the will of just about anyone by turning on his charm, which grew out of a super-sensitivity he had to other people's feelings. Quatre's over-the-top understanding and compassion, Heero worried, left him open to manipulation by scheming lover-wannabes, which was why he had been keen on vetting his friend's potential boyfriends. And chase them off. No one was good enough for Q, not even him. Quatre's eyes were on him now, a question on his face. Heero dug his fingernails into his hand, derailing his self-pitying thoughts. He relaxed as his friend turned his attention back to the guard. "Please? I would be ever so appreciative." Quatre beamed his appreciation all over the place. Heero almost laughed to watch his friend work it. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who knew of the influential "puppy eyes" technique and how to turn it on. Wufei stared back to the bank, up at the sky, taking into account the weather, and then regarded his watch, as if to measure the impact of falling under Quatre's spell would have on his career. "I suppose I won't be missed a few minutes more." Was there any question of the outcome, Heero wondered? He indulged himself with an inward smirk, preferring to keep his emotions in check. He didn't know this Chang Wufei and didn't want to give away too much of how he felt. The guard accompanied them all the way to Quatre's building. Along the way, Quatre told Heero how he'd hired Preventer's agents over the years for protection and security issues. They stopped just inside the building and Quatre started talking again. He vaguely remembered hearing about or seeing the other Asian man before, but so many details from his first few months in Sanc had lost coherency in the chaos of moving his company and uprooting his whole life. "Wufei and I met on several occasions. You were the liaison officer in charge, right?" "I resigned," Wufei told him. "Oh! I'm so sorry." "Don't be. The job at the bank is part time. I'm studying for my PHD at Sanc University." "That's marvelous!" Quatre continued to say more, but Heero had become inattentive and tuned him out. Why Quatre thought he needed him to invite new faces to his party, Heero couldn't guess. His well-dressed friend seemed to know everyone already. His cell beeped, and he found a warning message for a pending meeting, He ran the agenda and name of the client over in his mind by memory until a poke in the ribs derailed him entirely. "Heero, give him one of your invitations. Mine are all spoken for." He passed one over and noticed the way Wufei was examining him. What were the chances that this was another gay man? Were they so commonplace here in the capital city, he wondered? "Thanks," Wufei said with a brusque little bow. Heero took a moment to observe him in return, liking the way he filled out a uniform. Serious face. Wufei looked no more pleased than he had when he held the heavy, linen-textured envelope inscribed in silver filigree, but he had the manners not to patently turn it down. "You are hosting this, I take it?" Wufei directed to Quatre. "Thank you, Mr. Winner, for the invitation." "Please. Call me Quatre. We agreed on that before. And you must come meet the prince." "Zechs Merquise will be there?" Wufei's voice sounded hoarse, his former tetchiness replaced by awe. He opened the card and eyes scanned the words. "Yes, he will. It's in part a celebration of his return to Sanc." Heero didn't want to hear about the shiny prince. After that one particularly unforgettable fling with him in college, Heero knew him for the sodden asshole that he was, pun intended. No one, not even his best friend, wanted to hear about the real man, Milliardo Peacecraft, so Heero excused himself. "Nice meeting you, Wufei, but I will be late to a meeting if I don't run." He bumped Quatre's shoulder in passing. "Thank you for lunch, and see you next week." Yes, he'd been abrupt, but he suspected that wouldn't surprise Quatre. "Okay! Bye, Heero! I'll call!" He rushed away, hefting his cheery, red tote bag, bulging with candy, his pocket crammed with envelopes and paper money. What a day, and it was only half over! And then he remembered he hadn't bought cards! Too late now. He didn't even know who to give them to anyway.
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