title: Difficult
fandom: Gundam Wing
characters/pairings: Heero/Duo/Trowa
rating: Teen
warnings: suggestive of violence, gunplay
summary: Heero, Duo, and somehow Trowa. Trouble.
notes: for sonny, cuz he's OLD. *nods* yesyes.

"You'd better just fuckin' do it, already, or I'm gonna fall asleep."

He sounded bored, too, but Heero knew better. He pushed his gun into Duo's forehead just a little more.

Duo yawned. "Jesus, Heero, you have performance anxiety or what? We've been over this. Either shoot, or lay off."

He narrowed his eyes. Working with Maxwell was always difficult. The little bastard was always pulling tricks, and taking 'extra' cuts. Trouble was, he was a clever bastard, and always had his ass covered.

That was the part that was particularly irksome. He should have known better. Falling into bed with someone like Maxwell was a waste of time. Falling in love... but Heero didn't do that. His heart was made of sterner stuff.

Trowa came out of the bathroom, now wearing jeans, unbuttoned, and smoking a cigarette. "Oh," he said, in that annoyingly calm voice. "You're not done yet. You need some privacy?"

Duo smirked. The bastard smirked. "Nah, we're good. Aren't we, Heero?"

Heero ground his teeth painfully. "You double-crossed me, Maxwell."

"Aw, lover, don't be like that," Duo pouted. Heero ignored the sound that could have been Trowa chuckling in the background. "What makes you think I'd do something nasty like that to you?"

Narrowing his eyes, Heero tightened his finger on the trigger. Duo didn't visibly flinch, but his smirk lost its humor. "Don't play games with me."

Duo reached up slowly, just grazing his fingers over Heero's hand. "Don't you like playing games with me, Heero-kun?"

Heero was not in love with him. He did not shiver at the touch of Duo's fingers. He did not want to kiss those lips, and make him moan in pleasure. He did not want to throw the gun away, and press Duo down to the ground, and show him how much he liked to 'play.' Heero concentrated on breathing, in and out, slowly, just breathing. "You owe me five thousand dollars, fucktard."

"Now, Heero, wait one minute there," Duo shifted quickly into negotiation mode. "That's a big accusation. Five grand is a lot. Now, I know you think you should have gotten more, but let's be reasonable here. Things happened. It didn't fall out like you wanted. I'm sorry, but these are the hazards of our business, and when these unexpected expenses crop up, you just have to deal with them..."

"You're playing me, you bastard!" Heero pressed the gun into Duo's forehead so hard, he broke the skin.

"I had to kill the girl," Trowa declared calmly, flicking excess ash off his cigarette. "Standard price."

Heero snarled, and pulled the gun away viciously, not looking at Duo.

"I wouldn't play you, Heero," Duo informed him quietly, sadly.

Heero's arms lost their strength, and fell limp to his sides. "No?" He laughed bitterly. "Because I'm so special to you, right?"

"You'd be surprised." Heero could tell by the tone of Duo's voice that he had turned his head away.

Something shocked him, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone. He pulled it out, and read the text message carefully, making sure to read it twice so he knew he was reading the code right. "Gotta go."

Duo smiled, but Heero couldn't see his eyes anymore, his bangs were too shaggy, and his head bent down like that. Blood dripped over his nose. "Surprise, surprise. Hey, stop by when you are in town next. Your visits are always so much fun."

Heero paused for a moment. Duo wasn't looking at him. Trowa was very into his cigarette. There was... a lot left to say, do, maybe, but... There was never time. Maybe it was better this way, anyway.

He left, slamming the door behind him.

Working with Maxwell was always difficult.








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