Author: Snowdragonct
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Sap, fluff
Pairing: 1x2x1
Summary: Heero rushes to Duo's aid when Quatre suspects Duo may have hurt himself in a hot tub owned by Quatre's sister.
Author's Note: Based on personal experience in a hot tub, which did not end in sex, despite Herculean attempts...long story, but all you get is THIS version...
A bit of lime is all...no lemon, I'm afraid...but then, it's way more awkward to have sex in a hot tub than you might think!!!
Best Laid Plans (or How Duo and Heero Ended up in Hot Water Together)
Heero POV:
In retrospect, the whole thing should have felt more like a setup from the start. But between Quatre's wide-eyed innocent look, and Trowa's quiet, inscrutable concurrence, I think I can be forgiven for falling for it.
Besides that, Wufei was in on it, and he's usually so far above reproach you couldn't possibly conceive of his being part of anything the least bit underhanded or sneaky. Or at least I couldn't...prior to that night.
It had been a very long couple of months at Preventers; one case after another. You'd think terrorist plots would be few and far between, or at least sporadic at best. But somehow Duo's latest undercover work had led to the discovery of a sleeper cell that ended up being the tip of a really nasty iceberg, and we'd spent literally weeks chasing down numerous factions.
I suppose I should clarify; it was about three years after the end of the war. All five of us Gundam pilots had ended up working for Preventers in some capacity. Quatre was a tactician, and often handled interagency issues when we worked with local law enforcement. He was still shrewd, stubborn, and dangerously charming.
Trowa led a team of infiltration specialists -- men who could sneak into almost any facility, or blend into almost any group. Duo was his right-hand man, always in the thick of whatever was going on.
You might think Duo would have a hard time being told what to do. But he actually took orders pretty well, especially from someone he respected as much as he did Trowa. He came right out and admitted Trowa was the better leader, as Duo tended to go from his gut. He favored the scorched-earth approach, while stealth was often the better tactic.
Why didn't he go into demolitions? Mostly because a large part of their work consisted of disarming bombs, and he much preferred to set them. That didn't mean he wasn't called in when there was a need to destroy an underground bunker. Une was no fool, and she pulled all of us in on whatever operation required our expertise. It meant we worked together quite frequently.
Last but not least, Wufei was just an all-around excellent agent. He'd matured a bit, and was less hot-headed than he'd been during the war. He was truly talented at investigation, deduction, and interrogation. His calm, cold approach sort of offset Duo's tempestuous one.
Me? I was as much a jack of all trades as Duo. I guess I'd say I took an analytical approach to whatever task I was given. And since I had a bit more patience than Maxwell, I did a lot of investigative work and planning of missions, as well as the execution of those same missions. I was probably one of the busiest agents the Preventers had.
Aw, hell -- we all were. After all, Une wasn't about to let all that ability go to waste! So we pretty much worked our asses off.
When a lull in our case load finally came, we were all a bit burned out. Some more than others. I think Duo had it worst, because of the things he'd seen and done while undercover. He was far from his usual cocky, upbeat self. And while I probably should have understood that at the time, I was dealing with issues of my own.
I'd recently changed apartments, and was in the midst of a pitched legal battle with my former landlord regarding my security deposit. It was over some petty little blood stain on the hall carpeting -- and frankly I thought the fact that I'd foiled a burglary should have offset the negligible mess it made. Une had even tried calling to reason with the man, but he was completely intractable.
Duo loved to tease me about the incident, and it had become a bit of a sore point with me. So when he brought it up over lunch one day, I told him to fuck off with a bit more vehemence than usual. Instead of shaking it off, as he'd normally do, he'd snapped back, which led into a genuine insult-throwing argument. And so we ended up not speaking for a solid month.
Which brought me to the current day. It was much like any other Friday, except that instead of planning life and death missions, I was catching up on mountains of paperwork. In fact, I was so bored and mesmerized by the tedious task, that when my phone rang I about jumped out of my skin.
"Yuy!" I snapped out curtly, hoping my irritation was evident to whoever had disturbed my concentration.
"Well there's a fine greeting," came Quatre's cheery voice. "Is that how you always answer your phone?"
"It's standard procedure for an agent to identify himself," I said with a growl.
"Yes, but Duo always says it so much more pleasantly."
"Then call him," I suggested firmly, preparing to hang up.
"I've tried!" Quatre snapped out quickly, before I could put down the receiver. "He's not picking up the house phone or his cell."
I frowned, glancing across the hall at Duo's office and realizing I hadn't seen him all day. "House phone? You mean his apartment, right?"
"No. I mean the house phone where he's house-sitting for my sister Irea."
"House-sitting?"
Quatre heaved a sigh. "Yes. Did you not notice he hasn't been at the office since Wednesday?"
He was right. I had seen Duo in the hallway Wednesday, and we'd carefully snubbed each other after exchanging deadly glares. I hadn't seen the braided menace since.
"Okay. He's not here," I said with a verbal shrug. "What does that have to do with me?"
"Are you serious?" Quatre demanded. "Yuy, you are Duo's best friend. Of all people, you should know where he is!"
"You just told me," I pointed out. "So now I know. And besides, since you knew where he was and I didn't, perhaps that makes you his best friend."
I could practically feel his frustration over the phone line. "I don't have to be his best friend to give a shit about him," Quatre snarled. "And I'm worried."
"Why?"
"I haven't heard from him since Wednesday night, when he called to rave about Irea's hot tub and tell me they'd have to pry him out of the house with a crowbar when they got home."
"Hot tub?" I shook my head. Only Duo could arrange a house-sitting job involving a hot tub. He really did have phenomenal luck.
"Yes, and I'm kind of worried that he might've had a mishap -- maybe fallen and hit his head or something. Those hot tubs can be slippery. And Irea's has these stone steps. If he fell --" He let his voice trail off in obvious pain.
Again, I should've felt that hint of suspicion. But oddly I didn't.
Okay, I'm forced to admit that when it comes to Duo, despite my outward veneer of indifference, I care more about the braided idiot than just about anyone else. In fact, now that I thought back on it, I could hardly remember what we'd argued about that had kept us from talking for a whole month.
Hm -- I think I'd insulted his braid. And I know he'd insulted my laptop -- along with my manhood.
But really, what are a few taunts between friends?
"Well if you're so worried," I said carefully. "Why don't you take a ride out and visit him? You could say you had something to drop off for Irea so he wouldn't know you were checking up on him." And that's what he'd be doing -- checking up on Duo.
It wasn't something Duo was likely to appreciate, as it implied he was incapable of looking after himself, and the house he'd been hired to -- sit.
"I can't," Quatre huffed. "Do you not pay attention to what's going on outside your own office, Yuy? Ever? I'm up to my eyeballs in the Bernz case, and have had Wufei running all over town chasing leads for me. I'd have called Duo in as well, but since he's on light duty --"
"He's what?" I hadn't recalled Duo being injured on his last case -- at least not severely enough to put him on the restricted list.
"He hurt his back." Quatre's tone took on a chilly edge. "If you hadn't been quite so busy insulting his braid and making fun of the priest's collar he used to wear, you might've caught the part where he fell from a second-story window apprehending the ringleader of the terrorist cell."
Hm. That could explain Duo's irritability after that case, now that Quatre mentioned it. "Is he okay?"
"Well now that's the million-dollar question, isn't it?!" Quatre practically shouted into the phone. "And it's why I called you. I had hoped that you cared enough to check in on him. For me, if not for yourself. But if you're too busy --"
"Well I am working," I pointed out, trying to tamp down the nagging uneasiness Quatre had planted in my mind about Duo's welfare.
"And I suppose that's more important than the health and safety of your best friend."
"Of course not," I said firmly. "If you're so busy you can't do it yourself, e-mail me directions to Irea's, and I'll stop there on my way home from work."
"Um, it's not exactly on your way," Quatre said carefully.
"It's not?" I frankly had no idea where his sister lived. In fact, I thought he'd mentioned she had more than one house.
"He's staying at her oceanside cottage."
"Quatre, the ocean is two hours from here."
"I know. And Irea's place is closer to three."
And he expected me to drive all that way just to check up on Duo?
"Winner, if you're that worried about him, send the freakin' Maguanacs to look in on him," I ordered. "I've got work to do." I hung up before he could continue his attempts at persuasion.
I made it through two more pages of a report on the weapons Wufei and I had confiscated from a group selling them to a radical group in the Middle East, before the phone rang again.
I picked it up quickly. "Look -- I don't care how worried you are! I'm not driving half the night just to tuck Duo in for you!"
"I should hope not," came Trowa's amused drawl. "I'd like to think Duo can tuck himself in at his age."
I paused, not quite sure how to respond.
"I take it you were expecting someone else to be calling," Trowa prompted.
"Yes. Your partner seems to think that just because Duo's not answering the phone at Irea's beach house, he must be in need of some sort of rescue or something. I'm sure he's just lying on the beach or soaking in that hot tub Quatre mentioned."
"I'll bet," Trowa said enthusiastically. "And I envy the bastard. Irea's hot tub is -- decadent. Massaging jets -- colored lights -- and a sound system that can't be beat. Duo's probably only leaving it for meals and bathroom breaks."
"So tell Quatre to stop worrying about him and let me do the same."
"You're worried?" Trowa said with a teasing lilt to his voice.
"No. Yes." I paused, a bit befuddled by my inability to pick a definitive answer. "Only since your partner called and went on about Duo not answering the phone or his cell, and then mentioned he hurt his back."
"Oh, yes. The Veracruz case." I looked up to see Wufei leaning in the doorway to my office, a thick file in his hand. He made a tsk-ing noise. "Actually, now that you mention it, the reason Duo might not be answering the phone is that Sally prescribed some pretty heavy-duty pain pills. He's probably out cold."
"In the hot tub?" I wondered, feeling a chill run up my spine.
"Oh no. I wouldn't worry about that," Trowa said calmly from the other end of the line. "I'm sure Duo's not foolish enough to lounge in a hot tub if he's taken medication."
"Duo?" I asked acerbically. "Our Duo?"
There was a long pause, and then a rather forced chuckle. "Don't sell him short, Yuy. He's more responsible than he lets on. I'm sure he's fine. Worst-case scenario, he might've dozed off on the beach. He'll probably wake up with a killer sunburn."
I looked at the clock, realizing it was almost quitting time, and that there were still a few hours before nightfall. Duo could sustain some serious burns if he truly had passed out on the beach under the influence of pain pills. I fixed my gaze on Wufei. "What exactly did Sally give him?"
"I don't know. Duo called them 'happy pills' as he was washing a couple down at the water fountain the other day. "Probably oxycodone or something."
I was closing programs on my computer and reaching for my jacket before the sentence ended. Placing a hand over the receiver I addressed Wufei first. "Can you let Une know I've gone home for the day?"
He raised an eyebrow, but nodded, mumbling about "a first time for everything" as he turned to leave.
I took my hand off the receiver and put the phone back to my lips. "Tell you what, Trowa," I said as casually as I could manage. "I'll take a ride out to Irea's place, just to set Quatre's mind at ease."
"Now?" Trowa wondered. "It's not five yet --"
"It's close enough," I retorted. "And Une owes me anyway."
"I'm sure she does." Trowa sounded vaguely amused again. "Do you know how to get to Irea's? You probably should have directions. There's a gate, and you'll need the access code."
"Have Quatre send it to my cell phone," I ordered. "I'm going to head out now."
At the time I had no idea I was being cunningly manipulated. It seemed so straightforward. Duo was house-sitting, Quatre couldn't reach him, and there was reason for concern that he might have taken pain pills that could knock him out, or at least impair his ability to protect himself. My concern was not unreasonable or over the top, right?
~*~
Duo POV:
When Quatre set me up to house sit for Irea, I was pretty much ecstatic. I'd been out there once before for some kind of reception Quat dragged me to. But after catching a glimpse of that hot tub, I'd have given my left nut for a return visit -- sans company.
And Quatre had handed it to me on a silver platter. "You did say if Irea ever needed a favor, you were her man," he'd reminded me.
"Well, yes -- but I kind of expected her to want me to kill someone before she'd let me near that hot tub," I'd replied with a grin. "Frankly, I might be willing --"
"You don't have to kill anyone," he'd chided. "She's just concerned about leaving the place unattended for a whole week. But she didn't want to deny her housekeeper the time off either."
"Y'don't have to ask me twice," I'd responded quickly. "I'm entitled to a few days off for my back anyway. Might as well spend it at the beach."
So there I was late Friday afternoon at the beach, halfway wishing I wasn't gay so that I could marry Irea and share the tropical paradise forever. Granted, her husband might be a bit unhappy with the arrangement, but once he figured out all I wanted was the beach and the hot tub, he'd probably settle down. Right?
The gazebo with the hot tub in it was a stone's throw from the ocean, but completely covered, so I didn't have to worry about getting sunburned while I soaked. In fact, I didn't have to worry about anything. There was electricity out there, and little fairy lights hung all around the inside to cast whimsical illumination inside the structure. Of course, in lieu of those, I'd chosen the multiple candles Irea kept the gazebo stocked with, because I thought they set a better "mood." Plus, I'd been told I was a bit of a pyromaniac; so maybe it was just that I liked open flames.
Then again, maybe deep down inside I'm a closet romantic.
It certainly would've looked that way to an outsider, I supposed, having unrepentantly put some quiet string music on the amazing sound system that graced Irea's little piece of heaven. I'd even brought out a little plate of cheese, crackers and fresh fruit and a glass of sparkling cider to enjoy while I lounged. I had a feeling it was the best therapy I'd ever find for a pulled back muscle. And along with the half dose of muscle relaxers I'd taken, it seemed to be doing the trick.
At any rate, it was twilight, and the sun was reflecting off the distant clouds, making the horizon a pretty cool shade of purple and blue and illuminating a lazily drifting sailboat far from shore. I was lying chin-deep in softly-swirling water, feeling the lingering pain slowly seeping from my back, when I got the distinct feeling of being watched.
In an instant my tranquil mood was broken, and I was lunging up from the water, grabbing my gun off the nearby table and whirling to point it at -- Heero Yuy.
To his credit, he didn't go for his weapon in return. He just stood with his mouth slightly open, gawking rather foolishly for a long moment.
To my credit, I didn't pull the trigger.
"What the fuck --?" I asked, aware that I hadn't lowered my gun, and yet somehow not sorry at all.
"I -- Quatre -- you --" he sputtered ineffectively.
I gotta say, seeing Heero Yuy sputter was worth the embarrassment of having him show up at my private spa session. I didn't think I'd ever seen him quite so flustered.
But now that the thought occurred to me, I recalled Irea's giggling comment as she took off on her trip. "Oh, we never bother with suits out here, Duo. We just use the hot tub 'au naturel.' Enjoy, dear!"
So I was standing there stark naked, holding a gun on Heero Yuy, who still looked oddly dumbstruck standing at the entrance to the gazebo.
"Fuck!" I ducked back down into the water, forgetting that I'd long since perfected the art of looking indifferent when Heero changed clothes in the locker room. Sure, I had the hots for Mister Perfect Soldier; who wouldn't? But I'd shelved those persistent urges, stubbornly kept my gaze averted in the communal showers at work, and carefully hidden the occasional bodily reaction to the rare glimpse of his glorious ass. If I stood there by candlelight, with soft music punctuated by the surf crashing onto the nearby shore much longer, I wasn't at all sure I wouldn't completely blow my cover.
Of course, ducking into the water had its down side. First, my braid fell in and got soaked, after I'd spent considerable time draping it artfully over the side of the tub to keep it dry. Secondly, while reaching for my hair, I lost my grip on my gun and it plunked into the water beside me. And thirdly, my butt chose that instant to lose traction with the corner seat I'd landed on, and I ended up submerged in the middle of the roomy, bubbling tub.
Mortification, thy name is Maxwell.
I barely had time to flail for a handhold, when I felt a vice-like grip lock onto my wrists and haul me bodily upright....where I naturally found myself facing Heero's deep blue eyes and stern scowl. But I was too busy spitting out water and coughing to get the first word in, so he beat me to it.
"Are you okay?"
Huh? Since when did he skip the idiot speech and cut right to the concern? Even the last time I'd been shot in the line of duty, he'd started with "You're supposed to duck," and ended with "What in hell were you thinking, not wearing your Kevlar?"
Granted, he'd then helped me rearrange my apartment to accommodate the wheelchair I was confined to for a month. But first, he'd made sure he pointed out every flaw and mistake in my plans as well as my actions.
"I'm fine?" I asked, unable to keep the puzzlement out of my voice.
"Then why weren't you answering your phone?"
"There's crap for cell reception out here. Quatre told me not to even bother with it." I nodded towards my cell phone, which I'd placed on top of the clothes I'd tossed across a chair. "So I left it turned off."
Heero's glance followed mine, and then swiveled back to me, and down to his hands, which were grasping both of my wrists. "Quatre told you not to bother?"
"Yup."
"And you've been out here, rather than within hearing distance of Irea's telephone."
"Well, yeah." I gestured with my chin, since he still had a solid grip on my arms. "Look at this place! Can you blame me for spending as much time as possible out here?"
It was hard to read his expression. He looked annoyed. But at the same time there was a puzzled frown creasing his forehead.
And then there was the way his shirt clung damply to his chest... Oh, fuck! He was in the hot tub, too -- only way overdressed for it.
"You jumped in?" I asked incredulously.
"Obviously," came the dry response.
"Why?"
"You went under the water -- and after listening to Trowa prattle on about the pills Sally gave you, I wasn't sure you'd come back up --" He sounded genuinely distressed at the thought.
"I slipped on the seat," I told him. "In case you haven't noticed, they're all smooth and slick."
And why was I using words like that while I was naked and more or less in Heero Yuy's arms? Hell, why was I using words at all?
Heero's frown deepened, and his gaze swept slowly from my drenched hair down to my chest and then lower, and there was no way he could have missed the effect our position was beginning to have on me.
"Does Quatre know you lounge naked in his sister's hot tub?" he asked in an increasingly suspicious voice.
"She led me to believe it's common knowledge. And there are no robes to be found anywhere in this crazy gazebo. Trust me; I looked."
"We have so been set up," he concluded, releasing my arms, but not moving to leave the hot tub.
"Huh?" I asked intelligently.
"Quatre knew damned well you hadn't fallen and hit your head."
I blinked. "Quatre?"
"Yes, Quatre. And Trowa," he said in a low growl. "I should never have told that meddling clown I thought you had a nice ass."
"Huh?" I repeated, totally lost.
Wait! Not lost.
"You think I have a nice ass?" I demanded, pretty sure I must still have water in my ears. I could not have heard that.
The blush that crept up his cheeks was visible even by candlelight, but he recovered admirably. "Don't take it out of context. He was the one who posed the question, in the locker room one day."
"But you answered him," I pointed out, edging a bit closer and grinning as Heero inched back before crossing his arms and standing his ground. "In the affirmative."
"I gave him an honest opinion." Heero scowled, but it looked forced. "He must have blabbed to Quatre, who cooked up this lame stunt to put us in a compromising position." A slightly pained, apologetic expression settled on his face, and his shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry if I --"
"Whoa!" I yelped out, hastily closing the distance as he'd begun edging away again. "Don't be sorry." I shook my head, giving him my most earnest look, despite the wet bangs plastered to my forehead and dripping water down my nose. "And let's not just throw away a perfect opportunity --"
"Opportunity?" he asked, and I swear his voice cracked just slightly, even as his eyebrows crept up towards his hairline.
I gestured around us. "You. Me. Miles of empty beach. The dark of night to hide us. And an absolutely delicious hot tub!"
"Wh-what are you suggesting?" His expression darkened just a bit. "A fling?"
I shook my head again, vehemently. "Way more than that, Yuy," I said, going out on the same limb I thought he was on. "I'm not the 'fling' kind of guy. I'm more like the 'been admiring my best friend from afar for way too long' kind of guy." He still looked a bit confused, but hopeful, so I added, "The 'permanent' kind of guy."
And he pounced. No really, he did!
One minute I was thigh-deep in hot water slowly crowding Heero into a corner, and in the next I was swept up in his arms and we were both sinking down onto the little bench along one side of the tub, our lips locked together in a wet, sloppy, clumsy, absolutely perfect kiss.
Or at least it was perfect until the water came up over our noses and we had to break apart to gasp for air. Damned hot tub!
~*~
Trowa POV:
Forget everything you have ever heard about how romantic hot tubs are. Seriously. There were several times I thought I was going to have to call the paramedics before Heero and Duo finally decided to ditch the hot tub and take their impromptu make out session inside.
First, when they tried some heavy duty groping, they ended up thrashing around like beached whales. Having encountered much the same problem in that tub with Quatre, I knew exactly how awkward it was trying to overcome the buoyancy in order to establish the friction necessary for enjoyable sex.
I'm pretty sure they failed miserably.
Then I overheard Duo muttering about the muscle relaxers he'd taken, and how much of a handicap that was causing. Heero all but drowned trying to coax a response out of him, and from what bits and pieces I picked up, it sounded like they were both seriously frustrated. I think eventually when they headed for the house, it was to procure some ointment for Heero to rub into Duo's back, which he'd apparently aggravated during the flailing and falling part of the whole thing.
I'm pretty sure they never got to have sex at all, that first night.
I wouldn't even have been there if my little blonde mastermind hadn't made me stake the place out to be sure his 'intervention" proceeded as planned. But he'd circumvented my reluctance through his usual channels (sex) and quite frankly I was completely whipped when it came right down to it. He had me eavesdropping (and observing) with state of the art spy equipment from a boat anchored a few hundred feet offshore.
I didn't know whether to feel like a disgusting voyeur or a traumatized victim for awhile there. But Quatre made it up to me -- repeatedly.
~*~
Quatre POV:
I took some serious attitude from both Heero and Duo for quite awhile after what they dubbed "the hot tub incident." Apparently they felt their first romantic encounter was less than satisfactory -- though I maintain that's their fault rather than mine. After all, I wasn't the one who prescribed muscle relaxers for Duo. All I was responsible for was setting the stage; I expected those two to figure it out from there.
But since they'll soon be celebrating their fifth anniversary of being a couple, I think I'm more or less forgiven. Plus, I've arranged a gift I hope will more than make up for that first abortive attempt at romance. I got them their own hot tub, completely installed while they were off on a joint mission. Assuming they don't come home wounded or otherwise incapacitated, they should have ample time to explore the logistical aspects of sex in a hot tub.
And if they really need pointers, I've included an instructional video. I just hope Trowa doesn't notice it missing from our private collection.
OWARI
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