title: Marking Time
fandom: Gundam Wing
characters/pairings: Heero/Trowa/Wu Fei
rating: G/Teen
warnings: cold
summary: Three cold souls pass the time.
notes: for the lovely Kagi, for her birthday... it's a bit late, and almost certainly not what she wanted, but hey! it's something.

It was Thursday when it rained. Two days after it rained, Trowa had brought them tea. That was four days ago. So it was Wednesday.

They had been in this place for nearly two months now, and Heero was still not sure what they were doing. He let his arm fall off the edge of the bed, and his fingers chased a small beetle across the floor, blocking its path each time it threatened to get out of arm's reach. Wu Fei was sleeping on his back, a wet, warm, comfortable feeling.

Trowa was smoking in the window. His body was lean and smooth, and scarred. Very scarred. Trowa never spoke about himself; when asked questions, he talked around them, until he got past the point of giving anything away.

It was cold here, except for where Wu Fei was snoring softly against him.

It had rained last night, too. They had floor to ceiling windows, and the rain fell in ribbons and sheets against the glass, painting the room with watery light. Heero liked it when it rained at night, when the thunder clashed against the house like something solid, seconds after the flash of light that coldly illuminated.

Trowa's cigarettes smelled acrid. Heero didn't like the smell, but it wasn't like the exhaust from a Gundam. It wasn't worth mentioning.

There wasn't any reason for them to be here, to live together like this, but then, there wasn't any good reason for them not to, either, so they just did.

Maybe they didn't need a reason to be here together.

Heero didn't sleep at night. There was always too much noise, with the three of them. Trowa would sleep for two-hour stretches, and then get up, wander around the room nude, and smoke two cigarettes. He would sometimes look at Heero, sometimes, even, smile at him, but most often, he ignored Heero.

Wu Fei had once asked Heero why he let them share his life. It was an odd question, and Heero hadn't felt the need to answer.

Trowa would never ask something like that, but then, Trowa understood things that couldn't be said.

Heero crushed the bug under his finger, continuing to press his finger into the wood because he didn't know what else to do.

Trowa put out his cigarette, and got back into bed, putting his arm over Wu Fei. In a moment, his breathing became regular, and he was asleep again.

He lifted his finger, regarding the broken carapace of the beetle disinterestedly.

He longed for the fire that brought life back into his veins, but he was too tired to wake up his lovers now, and anyway, it wasn't the sort of thing they did at this hour.