This is actually the very first Gwing fanfic I ever completed! And I did it within one day. (I’m a very slow writer, usually). Anyway, I was kind of disappointed, because the evening after I wrote it I was reading some fanfics and I came across two others that had the same plot! However, one was strictly yaoi and very . . . promiscuous, and the other was a jolly straight fic (with shounen ai hints for Trowa and Quatre, which made it even better!). Either way, they were both different than mine, so I decided to post this one anyway. The other two were comedies, and mine really isn’t.

Pairings: Not really important in this story, but if you really want to know, only a tiny bit of 1+R and 3+4 jump out at me.

Warnings: Underage consumption of alcohol (assuming that the legal age of drinking is the same in the Earth Alliance of AC 195!), shounen ai, a wee bit Relena-sympathetic. Oh yeah, somewhat angsty overtones.

Disclaimer: They’re not mine, and I don’t claim them as my own (at least, not officially). This is just for fun, so don’t sue me. ^_^ that should do it!

C&C Welcome. Flames will be . . . uh . . . read.

I’ve Never

A.C. 195

The five pilots walked into the hotel room and grimaced. It was tiny—-four walls, a bathroom, two beds and a sofa. The professors had obviously spent no great amount of money to reserve this room—it was bad enough that they all had to share, but this was crazy.

Heero growled and threw his bag onto one of the large beds. "I'm going to kill Dr. J myself," he muttered, glaring at everyone.

"It'll be kinda fun," Duo said with a laugh, tossing his bag next to Heero’s. "Like a sleepover or something."

Wufei glared. "Only girls have sleepovers, moron. We're soldiers, not women."

"Couldn't you use your influence to get another room?" Trowa asked Quatre. “Certainly, someone as important as Quatre Winner could get us a suite or something.”

The blond pilot shook his head sadly. "Nope. Rashid cut off my funds. He got really mad at me for buying my new violin—it’s a Stradivarius, you know." He lowered his head, ashamed, but clutched the handle of his violin case possessively. [1]

Heero looked around again, trying to imagine what the sleeping arrangements would be. There were two queen-sized beds and a couch. Of course, there was also a bit of floor space in front of the liquor cabinet, and if all else failed, he could sleep in the bathtub!

Quatre seemed to be wondering the same thing. "How are we going to sleep?" he asked.

"I claim the bathtub!" Wufei ignored the strange looks the others gave him. Perhaps he just had an overactive imagination, but something just didn't seem . . . right about Duo Maxwell, and he wanted to stay as far away as possible. And the others didn't seem much better.

Duo popped his head into the bathroom, then shook his head, smiling. “Sorry Chang—all we have here is a shower. Guess you get to share with someone.” He grinned wickedly and raised his eyebrows.

"I'm too tall for the couch, so I'll take the floor if you guys want the beds." Trowa's voice was quiet as he sat on the carpet near the sofa. Of course, he reasoned, they could always share the huge beds—but he wasn’t going to be the one to suggest that. Everyone would suspect that he had other motives. And then, of course, he'd have to sleep with Heero or Duo, because he wouldn't be able to sleep so near Quatre. That would just be too . . . weird. And he probably wouldn't be able to hold back, either—he’d hate to wake up snuggling or something, and that was bound to happen if he let his guard down too much with Winner.

"I'll sleep on the couch, then," Quatre volunteered, throwing himself onto the not-too-soft cushions. If he was on the couch, he could easily watch Trowa fall asleep. Maybe it was a little obsessive, a bit weird, but he always watched his best friend at night. If he were on the bed, it'd be a bit harder to see Trowa's face. He blushed, hoping no one would figure out his reasons.

Wordlessly, WuFei threw his stuff into a corner near the door, planning to sit up all night. Someone had to keep watch, after all.

"This one's mine!" Duo jumped on the bed near the liquor cabinet and sprawled out. "Ahh . . . all this room! I need to get myself a queen-sized bed!"

Heero glowered. He wanted his own room. His own bed. His own mission. As much as he respected these guys as pilots, he hated having to work as a team. It just didn't feel right. But he couldn't do anything about it—it was a mission. Dr. J had his reasons, Heero was sure. But he still wanted to get back at him.

Heero stepped over all the bags to get to the liquor cabinet. He opened it and removed several bottles, throwing them onto the last bed, evidently left for him.

"Heero?" Quatre's voice was meek. "Is it really smart to drink if we have a mission to start tomorrow?"

Heero mumbled something unintelligible. All the others heard was ". . . own room . . . get even . . . Dr. J . . . spend his money."

Wufei caught on, laughing wickedly. "I can see his point." He grabbed the rest of the bottles and tossed them to the other pilots, settling down at the far end of the couch. "We can make them wish they would've put out the money for a decent room!"

Duo didn't hesitate to open his up and start drinking. "Nothing like a nice bottle of expensive tequila to get you ready for the weekend!"

Trowa wordlessly opened his bottle of vodka and began drinking it straight. It was going to be long weekend, too, he thought. Maybe alcohol was what they needed for a change.

Quatre looked at the bottle Wufei had given him, panicking slightly. Bacardi rum. The Qu’ran [2] forbade drinking, and he had never been the type to give in to peer pressure—but there was something impressive about how the other guys were taking huge gulps of liquor as if they did it on a regular basis—as if it were milk or something. And he didn't want Wufei to call him a woman—that had happened way too many times lately. He hesitated a moment, then uncapped the rum. The first sip surprised him—it wasn't very good. Still, he kind of liked the burning sensation that flowed down his throat. He smiled and took another sip.

Wufei opened his scotch and took a huge swig. He hadn't had an alcoholic beverage for a long time—not since he left L-Five cluster almost a year before. Not since he became a gundam pilot.

Heero was practically finished with the first bottle by the time Quatre took his first, timid drink. He liked the strange feeling in his head—he felt very loose and at-ease. He wondered if Duo felt like this all the time.

They drank quietly at first, except for Duo. He kept talking, telling them about anything that would come to his mind—details of his last battles, a movie he saw when he was younger, his suspicions about Oz—even Bible stories. They all listened wordlessly, not admitting that they were even slightly interested in the story of Job.

"And I think Job was a lot like me," Duo said, his words becoming more slurred. "He was thrown around a lot by God and by Satan, having to prove his faith until the day he died. Everything he loved was taken from him; everything he wanted was denied. But he never renounced God. So he was rewarded in the end."

"That's justice," Wufei said loudly, raising his Scotch bottle as if he were toasting Duo. "We'll all get our rewards for being just and true."

"Yup! We'll end up in the kingdom of heaven." Duo flopped back across his bed, laughing. His thoughts were out of control, spinning in his mind as fast as the room was spinning around him. Heaven was a deep concept.

Heero growled. "People who kill people go to hell," he said through clenched teeth. He looked around the room. "Except maybe Quatre. He's too good."

Quatre blushed. He had a feeling that he was the least drunk of all of them, but he was still pretty tipsy. "I've done worse things than you guys have. I destroyed an entire colony. I'll be in hell before any of you."

Trowa reached over and shoved his friend's knee playfully. He gave Quatre a sloppy grin. "Nyah," he said lightly. "I thought penance and all that would make up for stuff like that. You're sorry, right?"

They were silent—even Duo. Memories of killing and destroying were going through each of their minds. Though Duo was the only Christian, they all believed in their own sort of hell. And they were pretty certain they'd end up there, despite what they told each other. Heero reached for a new bottle of whatever was closest.

“I wanna do something happy!" Duo wailed suddenly. He rolled onto his stomach and looked at the other pilots. "Have you ever played drinking games?"

The others shook their heads.

"I saw this one in a movie—it’s called 'I Never' or something like that," Duo was smiling wickedly. "Basically you go 'round in circles and each say something you've never done, and anyone who has done it has to take a drink."

"Let's do it." Heero wanted to get as drunk as possible. It was easier to keep from thinking excessively if he was drunk. Certainly he was more experienced than the other guys—he’d be wasted before the hour was out.

"I've never tried to self-destruct," Wufei began, knowing full well that the other four had attempted to, at one point or another. They all took swigs. He looked to his left, where Quatre was perched on the couch. "Your turn."

"Umm . . . I've never had a mother." The pilots looked at each other, surprised when only Wufei took a drink.

“None of you?” Quatre asked, his eyes wide.

The other three boys shrugged.

“I was raised on the streets,” Duo explained. “I don’t remember ever having a real family.”

“I was raised by mercenaries,” Trowa said softly.

“I don’t remember ever having a mother,” Heero answered. He shifted his gaze away from the small blond. “It’s your turn, Trowa.”

Trowa coughed, embarrassed. "I've never kissed a girl,” he admitted.

"Real kiss or friendly kiss?" Duo asked.

"Real."

Wufei, Duo and Quatre took drinks. Heero and Trowa gaped at Quatre. He always seemed so . . . innocent. When he put his bottle down he shrugged, smiling.

Duo sat up. "I've never told a lie."

All the other pilots took drinks. Heero was beginning to doubt his personal experience. One whole round and he'd only taken two drinks. The others looked at him expectantly.

"I've never . . . " he thought for a minute. "I've never been mistaken for a girl."

"That's a cheap shot," Duo said with a glare before taking another swig. Quatre followed suit.

Wufei gave them an evil grin. "Do you women have the stomach to continue?" The others nodded. So he started thinking of his next declaration. After a minute it came to him. "I've never been in love."

Quatre took a sip, followed by Duo. Trowa gulped down some vodka after thinking for a minute. Heero looked at his bottle, looked at the others, and finally took a swig.

"I don't feel well," Quatre moaned. Since the game began, he'd had more to drink than anyone else. "I've never been drunk before."

Duo, Trowa, and Wufei downed another gulp. Heero shook his head again, wondering how the others had managed to do so much—they were all pretty much like him, right?

Quatre leaned his head on Wufei's shoulder. "Never again," he murmured, closing his eyes. Wufei tensed visibly.

Trowa looked at Quatre, worried. He didn't look so good. Then he noticed that everyone was watching him, waiting for his line. "I've never practiced any kind of religion."

"Another cheap shot," Duo said in mock-anger. He took a giant gulp, as did Wufei.

"You're mean," Quatre told his friend as he drank some more rum. It was the last of the bottle, so Duo fetched him a new one.

"I've never had a stalker," Duo said, grinning wolfishly at Heero.

Heero gladly took another giant gulp, noting with pride that no one else had. Sure, he didn't really mind Relena's attention—but he'd call it stalking if it got him drunk!

Heero gave the others a critical look. Duo was unbraiding his hair, looking quite . . . pretty. Trowa was watching Quatre with concern. Quatre was again leaning on Wufei, and Wufei was looking rather panicky. He was obviously more than a little homophobic.

This was too easy, Heero thought with a sneer. "I've never kissed—or been kissed by—another man."

Wufei didn't move a muscle, just as Heero expected. And neither did Quatre. Heero was a little surprised by the gentle Arabian again. Maybe he just hadn't heard . . .

Meanwhile, Trowa had taken a gulp, along with Duo. Heero studied them carefully, wondering what the chances were that they had kissed each other. But they neither avoided eyes nor glanced at each other. It was probably unrelated. Interesting.

"Round three," Wufei laughed. He was beginning to feel light-headed. But he still was aware enough to dislike Quatre's leaning on him. He gently pushed him toward the other side of the couch. "I've never wanted to kiss a guy." Heero's question needed clarification, since he had allowed the idea that maybe Trowa and Duo had been kissed, rather than initiated the kissing. That meant that maybe they weren't really gay, and that’s what he needed to find out.

Duo and Trowa again took sips. Duo was laughing and Trowa was blushing. Quatre sat up, opening his eyes again. He looked around momentarily and then took a huge swig, drinking almost a quarter of the bottle. He followed it with a slight giggle and a hiccup.

"Um, um," Quatre racked his brain trying to find something to name. For some reason his mind seemed to be working in slow motion. His eyes rested on Trowa. "I’ve never been in love with someone at the same time they loved me."

The room fell quiet as they all looked at one another. Duo lifted his bottle to his lips, then reconsidered and shook his head, lowering the drink. Heero grinned and took a huge gulp of whatever it was he was drinking. More cautiously, Trowa followed suit.

Trowa was feeling pretty woozy, but he was still aware of everything.

"I've never not wanted to be a pilot."

Wufei took a large sip, and everyone looked surprised. He met their stares with hostility. "I'm not like you." His voice seemed colder than usual.

"Oh, you guys are too serious," Duo said with a laugh, leaning against the headboard, his hair cascading over his shoulders. "We should be happy now. Hmm . . . something light. I've never—I’ve never made love to a woman!"

At that moment, Quatre slipped off of the couch. "Never?" He asked, eyes wide. "I was certain you were the most experienced when it came to girls!"

They were surprised by the sound of Wufei gulping down the last of his bottle. Heero promptly threw him another.

"You've slept with someone?" Quatre rested his chin on Wufei's knee, looking up at the Chinese pilot.

"Yes. Get off of me."

Quatre pulled away, pouting.

Heero didn't like it when only one person got to take a drink. And he didn't like it when he didn't learn anything new.

"I've never taken or given bribes," he said suddenly, anxious to see which of the guys had done something so immoral.

Wufei opened the new bottle and took a drink. Quatre shamefully followed. And much to Heero's surprise, Duo took a swig. He laughed and threw the empty bottle aside.

"More tequila please," he called Heero, stretching his arms out. Heero held out a bottle, but Duo couldn't reach it, so he moved over to Duo's bed, bringing his "stash" with him.

Wufei gently rotated the bottle between his fingers. "You know, I've never felt worthy," he said sadly. When he glanced up he met the mournful expressions of the other pilots. No one took a drink. For the first time he realized that they were alike in some ways.

"I've never been able to forgive myself," Quatre whispered, his eyes tearing up.

Heero, Duo, and Trowa took drinks.

Wufei peered down at Quatre. "About what? Killing? Winning? Destroying the colony?"

Quatre nodded. "Yeah—all those. But also, I can't forgive the fact that I ran away against my father's will just to do those things—and Father died because of it." He sniffed and turned away from the others.

Trowa ruffled his friend's hair gently, trying to tell him it would all be okay. His face flushed slightly as Quatre leaned against him. "I've never been able to easily express myself," he stated, trying to shift his gaze away from Quatre.

Duo giggled and took a large sip, spilling the drink all over himself. Quatre looked up at Trowa soulfully and took a sip. Wufei gulped down more Scotch.

"What?" Heero and Duo shouted in unison.

"Wufei—you talk about yourself about as much as Trowa!" Duo accused, pointing his finger at the quiet pilot.

"Just because I don't talk to you doesn't mean I can't express myself, Maxwell," Wufei responded pointedly.

Duo's face fell. "You're a mean drunk, Wufei."

"Yep."

Duo pouted. "Well, I've never felt guilty."

Wufei took a very large swig of his drink, closing his eyes tightly. Trowa and Quatre took drinks, and Heero followed suit.

Duo shrugged. "Who am I kidding? How can I not feel guilty for going around killing people?" He swallowed a large amount of alcohol, and followed it up with a smaller sip. "That on was for telling my first lie."

Heero glared at the entire group. He was beginning to feel less woozy. He felt more grounded. And the others were still buzzing. That made him feel inferior, and he hated it. He'd had less to drink than any of them. Trowa was the only other one who had kept the same bottle throughout the game. Sure, Quatre was taking huge gulps, but he'd still taken more drinks than Heero had. What was the point anyway, Heero wondered.

"I've never been truly happy." His statement was met with silence. Duo was shaken. Quatre appeared to be ill. Trowa seemed weary. Wufei looked miserable. No one took a drink.

Wufei stood. "I'm done," he said, setting his bottle on an end table and heading toward the bathroom.

"Me, too," Quatre replied, stretching out on the floor. "I'm so tired I can't move."

Trowa carefully began to remove Quatre's shoes. "Wufei!" he shouted toward the restroom, "could you get a glass of water for Quatre?"

"Hmm?" Quatre lifted his head slightly.

"Shh," Trowa whispered. "If you drink water now you'll feel a lot better tomorrow." [3]

Duo silently watched this exchange. Though he had probably drunk to more of the statements than the other guys, he couldn't help but wonder whether or not he really was the most experienced. Heero had always seemed to be the one who'd lived the most, but obviously in some ways, Wufei had. And even though he'd probably been with more people than Trowa had, he still hadn't found in anyone what Trowa seemed to experience with Quatre. Duo frowned.

"I wanna fight," he pouted. "Will you fight me, Heero?"

Heero glared at Duo. "Shut up and go to sleep, Duo." He set their bottles aside and curled up at the foot of the bed. He didn't want to move; he just wanted to sleep forever.

Wufei came out of the restroom, handing Quatre the water. He then turned off the lights and collapsed on Heero's unused bed. He was snoring within ten minutes.

Duo still couldn't be quiet. "Do you think it's true?" he asked no one in particular.

"What?" Quatre murmured, his face toward the floor. Despite the water Trowa forced him to drink, he still felt like retching.

Duo's whisper was almost as loud as his regular speaking voice. "Do you think Wufei really slept with someone?"

Heero growled. "Of course he did—he said so, didn't he? Now shut up and go to sleep."

"But he said he'd never been in love." Trowa's voice was barely heard.

"You don't have to be in love to do stuff like that," Quatre answered, rolling onto his back to stare at the ceiling.

"So did you like the girl you kissed, Quatre?" Duo's voice was unusually gentle.

"No," Quatre admitted with a giggle. "I didn't like any of 'em."

Heero threw his pillow down at Quatre's head. "Just shut up and go to sleep--all of you."

Quatre took the pillow and slid it under his head. His stomach had finally calmed down, and he felt like he could sleep for a year. Rolling onto his side, he noticed that Trowa was only a couple of feet away. He smiled and closed his eyes, listening to the steady sigh of his friend’s breathing.

Wufei was fast asleep, clutching his pillow in his arms. His face looked unusually serene--the other pilots would hardly recognize him. He sighed in his sleep, whispering in Chinese.

Trowa shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position. His head rested near Quatre's, and he couldn't help but watch him fall asleep. There was something incredibly innocent about Quatre when he was asleep. He smiled wistfully and pulled his blanket around his shoulders. Maybe he'd have pleasant dreams tonight.

Duo stretched out one last time, wishing they could've talked all night. At least now they'd really have stuff to talk about. He'd never had a long conversation with Wufei before—frankly the guy seemed to be a little weird whenever they were together. Duo sighed and moved a bit closer to Heero. There was something really captivating about him when he wasn't aware that he was being watched. He looked pretty sensitive. That peaceful expression always put Duo at ease, and made sleep come a little more quickly.

Heero relaxed, letting all of his anger dissipate. Sure, he wasn't happy to know that he was the least experienced, but he felt somehow closer to the other guys. He didn't mind that they were all cooped up in a tiny room. He didn't mind that he was sharing a bed with Duo, even though the couch was vacant.

He listened to the deep breathing around him, letting it seep into his mind like a mantra. He opened his eyes and sat up, looking at the others. They all looked so relaxed, so open. Maybe drinking once in a while was good for them, if it meant they'd become a team—because, despite what he'd thought earlier, they were a team. And for a brief moment, that made him feel truly happy. He took advantage of the feeling and fell back against the bed, hoping to get a good night's sleep.

*author’s notes*

[1] Okay, for any non-musical people out there, Antonio Stradivari was the all-time best violinmaker in the world. (Beethoven is rumored to have owned a Stradivarius). On the other hand, the new line, I’ve heard, really sucks—so let’s just assume that Quatre plunked down several hundred thousand dollars (or credits, or pesos, or yen) for a relic of an instrument!

[2] Qu’ran is another spelling for “Koran”—it’s a little more true to the phonetic translation from the original Arabic, from what I’ve read.

[3] This could be complete hogwash. I don’t know—but whenever I’m drinking heavily, my friend Teddy always makes me drink a glass of water, and I’ve never once been hung-over. So I assume there’s some truth in it!

Thanks for reading!!