Toi Et Moi

“Like I said before, it’s not much.” Heero sounded almost apologetic as he ushered Trowa into the small apartment. Trowa looked around him, his impassive stare taking in the tiny living room, the even tinier kitchen.

“It’ll do,” was all he said. He set his bags down on the floor and shrugged out of his coat, hanging it up on the rack before staring at Heero expectantly. “I’ll take the sofa.”

Heero frowned at that. “I’ll take the sofa,” he said firmly. “You can have the bed.”

They stared at each other for a moment, neither one willing to back down just yet. Finally, Trowa said, “The bed looks big enough. We’ll share.” And with that, he turned and headed into the kitchen. Heero blinked, taken aback slightly, but he followed the taller boy, watching as Trowa investigated the contents of the cupboards.

“We’ll need to get some more groceries in tomorrow,” he announced, peering into one of the cupboards. His expression brightened a little when he saw a packet of pasta near the back, but his face fell when he saw the expiry date. Shaking his head, he placed it on the counter top as he continued his search for anything that was edible and in date.

“We could always order take out you know,” Heero said. “That’s what most people do when they don’t have anything to cook, right?”

“So I’ve heard,” Trowa murmured, moving over to the refrigerator and opening the door. The cupboards had been pretty bare themselves, but the refrigerator was totally empty. Maybe that was a good thing though, Trowa thought to himself. It didn’t look as though anyone had been here in a while so it was probably a good thing that the fridge was as empty as it was. He looked up at Heero from where he was crouched and raised an eyebrow. “I vote for take out.”

Heero nodded and walked off into the living room. “Any preferences?” he called.

“Whatever you want is fine,” Trowa replied.

By the time their food had arrived, Trowa had almost finished cleaning out the kitchen. The food that looked safe to eat had been placed away neatly while the remainder had been left out for the trash.

Heero was amused by Trowa’s orderliness, but kept quiet and let him do his job. Trowa wordlessly brought in plates and cutlery, setting them down on the table. “Pizza?” he asked, quirking one eyebrow.

“It was the only place that was open at this time,” Heero told him. Trowa merely shrugged and together, they ate their meal in silence. Heero was startled when he heard Trowa speak his name. He looked up to see what it was that Trowa wanted and then he froze when the taller boy leaned forward and swiped his thumb over his lower lip.

“You had some tomato sauce on your lip,” Trowa said casually, going back to eating his own food. Heero continued to stare at Trowa, watching him eat. He realised he’d been staring an awful lot lately, but thankfully, Trowa didn’t seem offended. “Heero, eat your meal before it gets cold,” Trowa murmured, not even looking up. Heero frowned. How did he do that? How did he always seem to know when he was being stared at?

Nevertheless, he did as Trowa suggested, hurriedly finishing off the rest of his meal. Food for Heero was for nourishment rather than for pleasure. As long as it was edible, then it would suffice. He knew from personal experience that Trowa liked to cook though. Heero suddenly found himself wondering what else Trowa liked to do for fun.

“Trowa, you’re a musician, right?”

“I try to be,” Trowa replied, getting up to clear away their things.

“Quatre mentioned it one time,” Heero added. “I’ve never heard you play though.”

He took off after Trowa and entered the kitchen, leaning against the counter as he watched the taller boy begin washing their plates. “What do you play?” Heero asked curiously.

“The flute,” Trowa told him, handing him one of the plates. Heero took it and dried it, placing it away on one of the shelves.

“Would you play for me?”

“I would if I had a flute to play.” Trowa passed him another plate.

“You don’t have your own flute?”

Trowa shook his head in response, waiting until Heero had finished drying the plate and put it away before handing over a couple of the knives they had used earlier. “It’s getting late. We should get some sleep.” He accepted the towel from Heero and dried his hands.

“I’ll make the bed,” Heero told him, not waiting for a response before heading off into the bedroom. He shook out a couple of sheets and laid them out on the bed, surveying them critically for a moment and then smoothing out the creases. Trowa liked things neat. Heero knew he would never complain about anything as trivial as untidy sheets, but he made sure they were neat anyway.

Heero frowned when he realised that there was only one pillow. He added bedding to the mental list of things to buy in the morning along with food. Stripping down to his boxer shorts, he waited for Trowa to finish up in the bathroom.

It wasn’t much longer when the other boy came into the bedroom. Heero noticed that he smelled like soap and toothpaste. Before he even knew what he was doing, Heero had turned towards Trowa and leaned up on his tiptoes, touching his lips to Trowa’s. He tasted like toothpaste too, Heero soon discovered.

Trowa’s hands came to settle gently on Heero’s shoulders, not pulling him closer, but not moving away either. Heero’s hands rested at Trowa’s waist, feeling the warmth of his skin through the sweater he still wore.

He broke the kiss finally and stared up at Trowa to try and gauge his reaction. Trowa was smiling down at him, his expression softening in a way that Heero had only ever seen once before and that look had been directed at Quatre. To have Trowa looking at him in that way made him feel heady and he tightened his grip on the taller boy’s waist.

Trowa moved a hand from Heero’s shoulder to the side of his face, cupping his cheek gently. Heero turned his head slightly, nuzzling Trowa’s palm. Curious, he darted his tongue out over Trowa’s skin. Just as Trowa’s mouth had tasted like toothpaste, his hand tasted like the soap he had used to wash himself with.

Trowa leaned down a little and kissed the top of Heero’s head before pulling away. “Go wash up, then come to bed,” he said softly. Heero nodded, feeling cold now that he’d lost the closeness of their bodies and he hurried into the bathroom.

When he returned, Trowa was already in the bed, sitting so that his back was propped up against the headboard. Heero hit the light switch on the wall, waiting a couple of seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dark before making his way over to the bed. Trowa held the sheets back for him, waiting until Heero was settled and then threw the blankets over them both.

They lay there side by side in silence. Heero listened to the steady sound of Trowa’s breathing and wondered what he was thinking. He remembered Trowa’s earlier words when he admitted that he didn’t have an instrument of his own. Heero wondered how much it would cost to buy a flute for Trowa. He wanted to ask the taller boy to see if he knew, but then decided against it. He wanted it to be a surprise.

Heero had never given anybody a gift before, but if he were to give one to anybody, it would be Trowa. Being around Trowa like this was opening him up to new experiences. Just as he’d never bought anyone a gift before, he’d never kissed anyone before, never had anyone read to him before.

In the past, Heero would have dismissed such things as foolish and frivolous, but now…things had changed. He had changed. Now that he no longer had to fight, he wasn’t sure he had anything left to live for, didn’t think he had any purpose left in life.

Suddenly, Heero felt cold. He inched closer to Trowa and rested his head on the taller boy’s chest. Trowa sighed and wrapped an arm around Heero’s shoulders. Like the kiss earlier, Heero hadn’t needed to ask for permission, he’d just done it. For some reason, it felt natural for him to be kissing Trowa, for them to be lying together like this. It felt right.

He listened to the sound of Trowa’s heartbeat, letting it lull him into sleep and for the first time in months, Heero’s dreams were peaceful.