Melts in Your Mouth, Not on Your...
by Granate
"I told you to eat them instead of throwing them at me," I growl as we both stare at the squashed red peanut M&M on my couch cushion. Duo has his hands around his middle, laughing. I suppose it has to be partially my fault, for bringing a snack so easy to throw. Knowing his penchant for throwing food at me, I should have at least presented him with a challenge. A challenge and something that would not leave a stain.
"Great," I continue, gesturing to the couch, "so now whatever’s not ground into your couch is stuck to my jeans."
Duo just laughs harder, as if the idea of Heero Yuy with chocolate all over his ass is the funniest thing he’s ever heard. I don’t think he cares about the couch. I tried to be careful about finding the M&Ms after he’d pelt me with them, but apparently, I missed one. I guess, out of such a big bag, that if I only neglected to find one, then I did all right. Better than 99%, I’d say.
Throwing food may be juvenile, but that’s the point. One would think that saving the world twice would demand some respect, yet other Preventers Agents still have a difficult time taking twenty year olds seriously. They think we’ll act our age, that the twenty year olds will flake out, screw up, give up, or just plain go off the deep end. What they don’t understand is we’ve never had the luxury of acting our age, and hell, if we haven’t gone off the deep end yet chances are we won’t. Or maybe we were pushed off a long time ago.
We go through our daily lives acting like adults, adding years to our ages, successfully navigating and operating in a world that is at least a decade beyond us, just like we always have. I am the way I am, but Duo’s always had more of a need to goof off occasionally. The only difference these days is that he’s absolutely heedless about dragging me a long with him. He loves old sci-fi, even restores antique video players so he can watch them, and that’s become our excuse to hang out and pretend like we know how to act our age. I think we’re on the right track with the bad movies and food throwing. I like that he’ll act this way around me, that he doesn’t think twice about being an idiotic twenty year old and tying to get me to be one too. He doesn’t worry about what I’ll think of him.
"I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think," he tells me when he’s stopped laughing enough to start making fun of me. "Here, turn around. Lemme see," he says, turning me by the arm. He cocks his head and squints in the dim light.
With a long-suffering sigh, I lean over a bit, bracing my hand on the arm of the couch. Bending over so someone can inspect my ass is the most humiliating thing I’ve done in a long time, even if it’s Duo. He starts laughing again, sensitive soul that he is.
"Well?" I ask gruffly, still waiting for the damage report.
"They’ll definitely need to be washed," he answers.
I make a face that I think he doesn’t see and before I know it, he’s turning me back around.
"Don’t make that face, Yuy," he teases. "Geez, here, I’ll wash them for you even." Grinning wildly, he reaches for my belt buckle. I wonder if he hasn’t had a little too much sugar tonight.
"Hey, Duo, wait!" I stammer as I fumble to stop him, fighting him off mostly because I don’t want him to find out I’m half hard. I’ve been that way all night. I usually am most of these nights with him, and not because I have some weird fetish about snack items being thrown at me.
He notices, of course, and stops. He glances up at me for just a second and I’m sure must be blushing, and then he goes right back to unbuckling my belt. Though, for a different reason, I suspect.
"Duo!" I continue to protest. It’s just like him to be grabbing at my crotch before we’ve even kissed.
"Your pants need to be washed, you’ll just have to stay over," he says happily.
Me staying over is something that’s long overdue. As I’ve grown up I’ve become more aware of Duo, more aware of the way he treats me versus the way he treats everyone else. I’ve also become more aware of the way I treat him compared to the way I treat everyone else. I’m not so dense anymore that I don’t see the difference. I’m not so dense that I don’t know that our movie nights are just an excuse to flirt like the idiotic twenty year old males that we should be. Yeah, long over due.
I’m only getting harder and he doesn’t even have my pants open yet. I finally manage to catch his hands. "I do not want to have casual sex with you, Duo," I growl at him. Aroused as I am, I can still walk away from this.
"Well, I don’t want to have casual sex with you, either," he replies and just like that we have an understanding. His hands escape mine and settle on my jaw as he backs me up against the couch. I couldn’t say who kisses who and it hardly matters. This kiss is also long overdue. He tastes like M&Ms and grape soda. He’s got me so distracted with his mouth, I don’t notice that his hands are working on my pants again until I hear the jingle of my belt buckle. I won’t be stopping him this time. My jeans fall to the floor and he wraps his hand around my cock. I break the kiss with a moan.
"Nice," he says, giving me a squeeze through my shorts. "Been this way all night?"
I just nod.
"Gee, and here I thought I was the only one who liked sci-fi that much," he grins.
I growl his name and he grabs the front of my shirt, pulling me to his bedroom.
+
"This doesn’t really change anything, does it?" I ask as we crowd ourselves onto the dry half of his bed.
He gives a thoughtful hum as he attempts to push his hair out of the way. "Well, if anything, I’m only going to expect you to put up with more of my sci-fi now," he says. He bumps up against the wall and arranges me with my back against his chest.
"More of that? At least I’ll get something out of it now," I say.
"Don’t try to deny your love for it! Resistance is futile!" he declares dramatically as he spoons me and nuzzles his nose behind my ear. He grew just that much taller than I did and usually it would annoy me to be reminded, but not right now. Not with his soft breath on my neck. He is falling asleep back there, but something keeps me from joining him.
"Hey," I say, elbowing him just a little, "what about my pants? You were going to wash my pants."
"Pants?" he mumbles sleepily. "Oh, they weren’t that bad, just wanted to get you out of ‘em."
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