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[GW FIC] Book Lovers : Letter B of F

BOOK LOVERS | by: e.N Black
Word Count Total: 11,347 | Complete: 12.28.2001
Pairings: mainly 2x5, 2x3, and A LOT
Disclaimer: e.N. Black does not own the rights to Gundam Wing.
Comments: For Lottery Fic visitor 2910, Amai Noa Izumi

Letter: B

The sky was overcast and rain threatened as Chang Wufei approached the door to his new place carrying four buckets of paints. Stopping short of the building, he noticed that a light upstairs glowed in the window. The door -- which he'd been anticipating fighting with all morning -- was slightly ajar and a faint hammering could be heard.

Wary of the commotion, and scanning his memory to see if he'd heard anything about Hammer Hitting serial killers on the news lately, Wufei cautiously opened the door. He winced as the old hinges squealed in protest to the slow movement and could have shot the board beneath him as it creaked in response to weight being put on it. The hammering ceased, and Wufei immediately ducked behind a shelf and cast about for a weapon.

A rhythmic thumping on the stairs informed the young Chinese man of another's presence on the steps. Seeing that he had no weapon, Wufei crouched into a defensive position and prepared to take his intruder by surprise.

"Mr. Chang?" the invader began, Wufei didn't drop his guard. He realized that his quarry had reached the bottom step, however, Wufei couldn't see over the shelf he was hiding behind. The Chinese man cursed his disadvantage. "Mr. Chang, is that you?" Wufei made a quick decision and promptly popped out in front of his uninvited houseguest.

"Yes, you wanted to see me?" Chang questioned and was delighted as the man before him started at his sudden appearance.

"Uh, yeah, I'm Duo Maxwell, Trowa Barton sent me . . ."

"Oh!" Wufei exclaimed. He felt like a complete idiot. Trowa did say that he would send someone over to start fixing things. "Wait-a-minute, how did you get into the house?"

The repairman had the grace to look sheepish and scratched the back of his neck. "I um, well, sort of picked the lock . . ."

"You what!"

"Well, I like to get an early start and you weren't here and Trowa woulda been late for work so I solved the problem . . ."

"You broke into my house," Wufei corrected.

"That too," Duo agreed grinning ruefully. "So do we make up and shake hands now, or what?" He wiped a slightly dirty hand on the back of his jeans and extended it to his new boss.

Chang Wufei, as discreetly as possible wrinkled his nose in distaste. Duo Maxwell was sweaty, filthy, wearing jeans with holes worn into the knee, and a red plaid shirt that had seen better days years ago. Wufei turned away from the offered hand. "Next time you feel the need to break in, why don't you fix the door while you're at it." He moved to retrieve the supplies he set down and proceeded up the steps still ignoring his hired help.

Duo Maxwell imitated his boss's stiff posture as he followed him up the stairs. "Ah, I get it," he smirked. "No problem, Boss. Oh and don't go in that last room, the floor is still drying."

Chang Wufei paused on his way to the room in question. "What do you mean the floor's drying?" he demanded.

"I mean, I just finished putting the puzzle pieces together for your new wood floor, and I won't appreciate you walking on it before its completely dry." Wufei about faced and eyed Duo as the handyman pulled out his hammer again and disappeared into one of the two bathrooms on that floor.

"You mean to tell me you're almost done with the master bedroom?" Wufei questioned incredulously, but did not follow Duo.

"Yes, just needs a fresh coat of paint, and your stuff, and you can move right in, should be safe enough." The hammering started again, and Wufei was curious as to what Duo was repairing.

"Oh, thanks . . . What are you doing now?"

"Replacing a pipe, this ones a little too old to last but the rest should be okay for the next ten years or so."

Wufei shrugged. "Great. I'll just leave you to this."

"Trowa . . . I don't mean to get into your business but, how do you sleep with that man?" Wufei questioned his dinner companion a week later.

Trowa placed down his wine glass, "Oh, sometimes the 'normal' way, sometimes against the refrigerator, other times doggy style, I don't know, it varies," he replied offhandedly.

Wufei gaped at him.

Trowa smiled as he reached across the table to push Wufei's bottom lip up. "Close your mouth, dear."

The Chinese man blushed and promptly gulped down his wine. "Trowa, Duo Maxwell is an uncouth, vulgar, dirty little lock picker."

The Latin man rested his chin on his hands and smiled at Wufei with a knowing grin. "Sexy isn't he?"

"Hell no."

Trowa pouted, "Ah, you're just not used to him, that's all," he deduced.

"I do not want to get used to him," Wufei stated. "Just last week he attacked my wall with a sledgehammer, and claimed the electricity was wired wrong to justify his actions."

Amused, Trowa wondered, "Was it? Wired wrong, I mean."

"Well, yes, but that is not the point . . ."

"Wufei you're just worried about your house. Chill out, Duo knows what he's doing . . ."

"Trowa, stop taking his side just cause you share his bed. Just yesterday, he told me my place would make an excellent brothel . . ."

Barton was about to take another sip of his drink, but promptly burst out laughing instead. "Sounds like something Duo would say . . ."

"This is not funny, Trowa, he is not a man I would choose to associate with . . . Why is there not a place where you can meet good, clean, wholesome people anyway? I would drag you there every day until your taste in men improved . . ."

"Excuse you, my taste in men is just fine. But while we're on the subject, where's your man . . . oh I forgot, he's on the missing person's list 'cause he don't exist yet."

Wufei was blushing as Trowa scolded him. "What are you trying to say?"

"That you're being unfair. Just because Duo doesn't dress in Armani suits, or is the architect in comparison to the laborer, doesn't mean he's not the best . . . Like . . ." Trowa paused as thoughts processed while looking down into the amber liquid in his cup, "he just gave you an excellent ulterior theme to your bookstore." His jade eyes shot up from his wineglass to peer into Wufei's confused onyx ones.

"What are you babbling about now, Trowa?"

Trowa leaned over to Wufei's side of the table and whispered excitedly, "Make your bookstore a brothel."

"What?" Wufei nearly shrieked.

"Yes," Trowa answered nodding intently. "Listen, before you balk at the idea. Now you just said you wanted a place where you can meet good people. Bookstores are notorious for lonely, I-need-somebody-to-read-with good people. It's basically a brothel . . . only the sex takes place inside the books instead of your rooms."

"Trowa that is crazy, I am still trying to fix it up," Wufei replied.

"But that's good, you can have Duo model it with this idea in mind," Trowa reasoned.

"I'm perfectly capable of modelling my own home," Wufei argued.

"I thought you gave art up, I was thinking to spare you. Come on Wufei, it's a good idea . . ."

Wufei gnawed his bottom lip. "I don't think so, Trowa . . ."

"Would you think about it first? What are you going to call this store anyway?"

"Nataku's House of Stories."

"That sucks."

Wufei sighed in irritation, "That's exactly what Duo said . . ."

"Well then great minds think alike, huh." The long banged man placed two fingers to his temple and closed his eyes. "I'm seeing, I'm seeing . . . Um . . . How about Book Lovers?" he proposed.

"Book Lovers?" Wufei repeated.

"Yes," Trowa agreed. "Its perfect. Love of books, love of people, an unanticipated name for a slut shop . . ." he goaded.

Wufei's bottom lip received its usual attention as he mulled over the possibilities. He wanted his store to thrive, and getting people together at the same time couldn't be half-bad. It would make for great advertising when the time came . . . An onyx eye found Trowa's, "Book Lovers?" he queried.

"Book Lovers," Trowa confirmed as they raised their glasses and clinked them together in a toast.

Treize Khushrenada knew he was wearing on his driver's nerves but he couldn't help it. He was lonely; his vast library offered nothing new . . . The aristocrat growled in frustration as he wondered. "Don't people read in this city?"