The Revelation came to Quatre during yet another of Duo and Wufei's fights. Duo/Wufei fights were, sadly, a common thing; of the five pilots, they were the two who least kept their tempers to themselves. Oh, they could have controlled themselves, but the war was at the moment in a strange lull where nothing much happened; getting into arguments was about the only thing to do. Lately there were hardly any battles to fight and when there were, the numbers of Mobile Dolls sent against them were ridiculously low. They had no outlet and it was starting to show.
"I'll kill you, you son of a diseased whore!"
Quatre didn't even know why Wufei was screaming and running after Duo this time around. He doubted they knew either. But here they went again. The American had wisely hidden his braid in his collar, and jumped over the couch, stepping on Trowa on his way.
"Yeah, if you can land a blow!"
Wufei leaped over the couch after him, his knee almost hitting the green-eyed one in the head. Duo pulled the rug from under his feet and dashed off, laughing as Wufei barely managed to keep his balance.
Duo dodged the chair flung at him. Quatre almost didn't. Neither Duo nor Wufei seemed to care. In the corner, Heero had started to clean his gun with manic intensity.
Quatre's eyelid started to twitch uncontrollably.
It could not go on. He refused to see it go on.
Suddenly, just as he was going to snap and show them how a real tantrum was done, Quatre had the Revelation. It was so simple, and yet so unthinkable, that for a long moment he stayed stunned, but Duo's outraged swearing broke through his shock and he decided that as weird as the idea was, it was worth a shot, because right now he didn't have any other solution to propose and he. Simply. Could. Not. Take it. Any. Longer.
He announced, as clearly and calmly as he could, "Guys, I think I have an idea."
His announcement went unheard in the sudden increase in volume. After being stepped on for the third time, Trowa had finally lost his cool.
A few curses, punches, an overturned couch, and a water hose later, everyone was ready to listen to him.
"This," he said, his gesture encompassing the bruises, the hair in disarray, the broken chair and the water soaking into the couch and the wallpaper, "cannot last any longer."
"The water was your own damn fault, Winner," Wufei growled, shaking droplets out of his mussed up hair.
Duo bristled. "He wouldn't have needed the hose if you could have just shut the fuck up!"
Heero, who up until then had been staying quietly in his corner, walked to the table casually and slammed his fist into it, breaking it in two. Wufei and Duo fell silent and stared at him.
"Quatre," he said in a way-too-calm voice, "is not blaming anyone in particular. We all have a problem."
Duo seemed to want to comment, but he glanced down at the broken table --massive oak-- and decided not to.
"Let him give his idea."
Quatre gave him a tense nod. "Thank you, Heero."
Heero grunted, as if to tell him to stop losing time with the politeness and give his solution NOW.
Of course the other teenagers were reluctant and showed it by the slowness with which they sat down. Quatre tried to make it look more like a business reunion and less like a counseling session by serving everyone a glass of water--he didn't feel like making them wait for tea-- but none of them was polite enough to acknowledge his efforts. Since his attempt to make this impromptu meeting even remotely civilized had failed, he decided to go on.
In a very calm, very reasonable voice, Quatre started to expose the effects of testosterone on human behavior. It increased physical strength, but also anger and sexual desire. And teenagers were particularly sensitive to it, seeing as their bodies were not adapted to it yet. Teenagers with such a stressful life as their own...
"So what you're saying is that we need to have lots of orgasms to keep us nice and quiet?" Duo reformulated, staring at him. Quatre turned pinkish.
"We can always jerk off," Trowa commented calmly. Duo coughed, surprised to hear that from him, and Quatre turned redder. Wufei seemed indignant, as if wanting to contest that he needed such base physical gratification, but Trowa quirked an eyebrow at him and he closed his mouth. Neither had forgotten the shower incident.
"Spanking the monkey ain't so fun when it's on prescription," Duo mumbled.
"It isn't about fun, it's about hormonal levels," Heero countered, sparing him a cold glare.
"Yeah, well, I'd think hormonal levels would drop faster if we put more enthusiasm into polishing the knob than into polishing our Gundams," braid-boy retorted. "But then, if you enjoy pampering your Wing more than your Little Soldier--"
Heero's eyes narrowed. Duo dropped it. Apparently even Heero wasn't immune to stress.
"So," Trowa stated, looking at Quatre with perfect detachment. "Your brilliant idea is to jerk off thrice a day? Do we have to follow regular hours? A wank before each meal, don't forget to wash your hands? Maybe we should do it as a group, to make sure no one forgets."
Okay, so maybe he wasn't so detached. His eyebrow was quirking just a tiny bit. Quatre felt his cheeks turn pink with humiliation.
"It wouldn't be the first time."
Everyone gaped at Heero.
"Uhh. The first time what?"
"That you all masturbate as a group."
Wufei and Quatre spluttered, and Duo gaped. Trowa's eyebrow went up another notch.
"Ex-CUSE me? I think I'd remember if we had a circle jerk session!"
"Do you remember what you were doing last Wednesday at three PM when I came back from my supply run?"
Duo and Quatre started to say no-- then blinked and went red.
Heero started counting on his fingers. "Duo, you were masturbating in your Gundam-- The cockpit latch was wide open. You didn't even hear me walk by. When I went in the living room," he added, looking at Quatre," you were holding a cushion on your lap and your cheeks were flushed."
"I was watching a very moving show--"
"It was Jeopardy."
Quatre cursed Heero's observation skills and his computer-like memory.
"Then I had to wait a half-hour to take a shower because you--" he looked at Trowa-- "were inside --by the way, you didn't hook up the showerhead again-- and Wufei..."
Wufei glared haughtily.
"... You forgot to lock your door. "
Wufei grumbled sulkily, but didn't see fit to comment.
For some reason Heero didn't see fit to mention his own reaction to the adrenaline of the battle, nor what was the first thing he'd done after his report was typed and sent.
"Yeah, well, okay, we were all choking the chicken in unison, only we just didn't know it. Yadda, yadda. What's the point?"
Now over his embarrassment, Quatre was glad to take up the discussion once again.
"Like you said it so ... tastefully, Duo, we need to get our hormones levels down. We either do it with drugs --and I don't know where we'd find a doctor who could prescribe us that kind of stuff, nor if the influence on our behavior would be dangerous, since we need to have some aggression in us when we fight-- or we do it the natural way."
"I think that's a load of bullshit, Quat. I polish my knob at least four times a day and it doesn't make Wufee any less stuck-up and irritating."
Chang glared threateningly at the American, but a kick in the ankle from Trowa dissuaded him from getting up.
Quatre coughed and continued, hoping to distract them from their incoming fight. "Sadly... Research has proved that humans seem to be wired to want penetration. Masturbation... just doesn't do it. "
"What do you suggest we do? Hire a prostitute?" Wufei asked with contempt, finally directing his burning glare on Quatre.
Quatre gave him a grave look back. "You know that we cannot mix with anyone outside our group."
There was a long moment of frozen silence.
Then Duo squeaked. "What?"
Quatre was aware that he was blushing, but he decided to pretend he wasn't and hope that his teammates would have the courtesy to pretend along with him. "We need to have sex. We can't go to anyone outside our team. Do the math."
"... That's some fucked up calculus."
Quatre waited, looking at his teammates for reactions. Duo was stunned, Wufei was frozen in place, Trowa looked thoughtful, and Heero... Well, he looked normal. That was two and a half out of five so far. He hoped Trowa would decide in favor of his idea.
Heero shrugged. "I don't see why not. It's the most efficient solution."
Duo's eyes looked wild for a second, like a spooked horse, but he made an effort to calm himself down. "I don't know, because we're not gay maybe?"
"Fucking a guy doesn't mean you're gay," Trowa intervened calmly.
Duo rolled his eyes. "No, it's only gay if you're the one who gets fucked, right?"
Trowa threw him a bored look. "... I was going to say that being gay is being able to form emotional attachments to males only. Fucking other guys for release only means for sure that there are no women to fuck. And even if you are, so what? My captain was the most virile guy I knew --he was more macho than Wufei and could have broken Heero in two-- and he still liked nothing better than cock."
Wufei choked on his drink.
"It doesn't matter what we would choose usually, because right now we have no choice."
Duo made a face. "Oh, that's right, you were with mercenaries. Don't ask, don't tell and all that shit. They did that a lot?"
"Some of them chose to help each other out, yes," Trowa commented blandly. "They were men, they were horny, and the only women in the unit were two bull dykes who had more balls than the rest of the guys. The guy would have done anything that moved."
Quatre gasped and stared at him, eyes wide. "Oh--Trowa-- did you...? They didn't, didn't they? You were just a boy!"
Trowa snorted. "Don't be stupid. I was barely thirteen at the most. I wasn't old enough to be interested, and no one found me interesting. They were mercenaries, not barbarians. And it's stupid to rape someone who's going to make sure your suit doesn't blow up in your face, don't you think?"
"... right. "
Now Quatre felt stupid for jumping to conclusions.
"... Okay, so Mister I Only See That Girl With Big Breasts And Short Shorts Like A Sister is telling us that 'helping each other out' isn't gay. Well, I feel better now."
"And Mister My Hair Is Prettier Than Hers sure sounds awfully worried about looking gay," Wufei lashed back with a smirk. "One would think he has something to hide."
Duo gave him an arctic glare. "At least I'm not the one who has wet dreams about my gundam."
Wufei turned beet red. "WHAT?"
"Well..." Duo's voice shifted, turned into a moan. "'Nataku... Oooh, Nataku!! ahhh... Nn!' I should have taped it," he added with a superior smirk. "It was fun to imagine you playing with that big trident."
That was the straw that breaks the camel's back. Wufei sprang out of his chair, roaring with fury.
"HOW DARE YOU MOCK--!"
It seemed that Quatre had wisely kept the hose in reach.
"Sit. Down. Please."
Seeing how the please was uttered tonelessly between clenched teeth and Quatre's eyes looked unusually flat, Wufei chose to avoid a Zero crisis by sitting down once again, though he did threaten Duo in Chinese.
Who replied, also in Chinese. None of the others understood but Wufei turned purple with anger.
Duo got the hose too. After that they were more disposed to listen.
"So, how are we going to go about it?" Trowa asked, dismissing the incident.
"Hey, wait a minute! I didn't agree to anything yet!" Duo protested, as he wrung his braid to get the water out.
Heero gave him a stony look. "You have been outvoted." Duo looked murderous, but he didn't protest any longer. He didn't do hierarchy well, but he understood gang solidarity.
"... Well... We would have to organize things a bit... I mean-- we can't make it a free for all. I guess we should... Take turns. Or something." Quatre was blushing again, having trouble thinking now that his idea had been accepted. When it had been abstract, it had been easier, but thinking about the logistics now that he knew something would happen was a lot more difficult.
There was another awkward silence as they tried to think of things rationally, then Duo made a face.
"I assume that we're not talking about mutual masturbation."
"Okay, so..." The American took a deep breath. "Taking it up the ass can make ya sore. I don't think ya would like having to stay in yer Gundam for hours on end if you just got fucked."
"Taking turns sounds good," Trowa said thoughtfully. "Things are slow enough that we could function with only three of us on full time duty right now. Let's say one week each?" he asked, a bit randomly.
No one had a better idea, so they shrugged and accepted the suggestion.
"... Any rules?"
Heero frowned thoughtfully. "We don't know yet what to expect. Aside from the evident 'don't cause any lasting harm' and 'don't cause pain voluntarily' rules, I don't foresee anything yet. We should talk about this again after the first week, and decide what to change, and maybe if we need to abort the experiment."
Quatre seemed to have trouble finding his words for a few seconds, then he shook his head and gave Heero a polite smile in thanks. "That sounds good. I can't think of anything right now either, so..." He looked at the other three pilots, asking without a word. Duo avoided his eyes, Wufei scowled but didn't say anything and Trowa shrugged with one shoulder, as if he couldn't be bothered to shrug properly. Quatre steeled himself for the next question. He was glad he still held the water hose, just in case.
"If we have decided everything that needs to be decided, who's taking first week?"
The room erupted with angry yelling gundam pilots.
After several moments of thought -- moments that would have been shorter if he had not been forced to think over the sounds of the argument they were having over why other people were more suited to take the first week-- Heero decided to go first. J had modified him so that he healed faster, and his muscles were also suppler, more resilient to tearing. There was less of a risk for damage with him, and since at first they would probably not know what they were doing, it was preferable that he be the guinea pig. Also, he had a slightly better control over his behavior than his teammates. He could wait a week longer. They --he looked over the destroyed living room -- could not.
Surprisingly, no one objected.
So the awkward meeting broke up, and Heero left, got his laptop, gathered information from help sites about anal sex (and porn sites, but since those were also educative in a way, he did include a few pictures), printed four rather complete reports (he didn't want to ask or assume anything about who knew what), dropped one off in each room, then went back to his own room to wait for the start of his week.
His week started. And he waited.