disclaimer: kebzero does not own gundam wing.. or the boys. so sad, that....
gw ficlets for author memes on live journal
[ divergence ]
[ cravings ]
[ in short ]
[ trifles ]
"Babies?" Heero was already starting to regret having asked, but Duo's decidedly pensive appearance, staring up into the ceiling of the cramped mess hall, had made him curious.
Challenging even the low gravity aboard Peacemillion, Duo rocked softly on his chair, balancing on two legs. His feet were crossed on top of the metal table and his hands supported his head. He finally abandoned his studies of the dimmed tube lights in favor of looking at his comrade in arms and his sealed pack of concentrated orange juice. "Yeah - you know, babies." He started a grin. "You know what they are, right?"
Heero gave an abrupt snort and took another sip of his refreshment.
"I think I'd want two - one for me, one for the wife," Duo mused, facing the ceiling again. "The hellion that spits the food back up and pees as soon as the diaper comes off - that one is mostly hers, so she'll take care of that one. The other tyke - the little angel that'll sleep all night without crying even once, that one is mine, as it obviously has more of my goodnatured qualities." He shot a glance at Heero to gauge his reactions.
And was fairly disappointed. "Obviously," Heero flatly stated, sucking at the straw.
Duo shrugged it off and sighed faintly. "She'd have to be real special, the woman that's gonna help me give something back to the gene pool."
Goes without saying, Heero thought to himself, briefly pulling up half a smirk as he studied his occasional friend. He knew better than to voice that opinion. He knew when he was being baited. Instead, he finished up his packet of juice and curled up the empty plastic container. "You're only fifteen, Duo. Aren't you a bit young to be thinking about-"
"Family?" Duo cut in, effectively shutting Heero up.
Heero started to see where this was all coming from. He understood, but for his own reasons, he didn't like it. Scowling just a tad, he stood up and shuffled towards the recycling unit.
Duo's chair fell forward, though the lacking gravity resulted in a soft landing. "What's wrong with planning ahead a little, anyway?" he muttered towards Heero's back.
He gritted his teeth, pumped his fist. "Planning is stupid," he said, tossing the spent packet in the bin. "If you fix your mind to a certain path, you'll be unable to cope the minute something unexpected pops up. It's better to just wing it."
Duo let go a huff through his smile, got to his feet, made two skip-steps in Heero's direction and embraced him from behind just as he jettisoned the waste. He rested his chin at Heero's shoulder.
Heero tensed up, not for the first time sensing how tight-fitting their flightsuits were. "Duo, what the hell are you doing?!" he cried out, albeit making no move to free himself.
Duo's breaths touched his ear, Duo's palm came up to cup his cheek, tilt his head even more, coaxing him to face Duo as best he could. The feral grin made his heart skip a beat. "Oh... just winging it," Duo whispered against his lips.
"Hm?" came from the body sliding in beside him, a bare, cold leg brushing against his own. Only trained habit kept him from jerking back.
"Know how late it is?"
Heero's lack of immediate response told him a lot - especially the part of how he hated having this topic brought up, over and over again. "...Duo... Please, I'm tired."
He grunted, rolled over and reached an arm around Heero's waist and well up under the worn tank top. He touched his lips to the bare shoulder. "And why do you think that is, huh? You need to stop."
Heero nearly groaned, and not from the touches, nor how Duo moved his hips against his backside. "Duo..." he complained.
"You're addicted," Duo stated. "You stay up half the night just to surf the net, and you're barely able to get up in the morning. If it weren't for my strongest coffee, Une would have your hide for your crappy job performance."
"...I can go without coffee," Heero grumbled.
"Like hell you can, love." Duo hugged him closer in the one-armed embrace, flickered his fingertips at one of Heero's nipples. "You need less time online, and more in the real world." He paused to kiss Heero's neck. "With me."
The guttural sound was complacent, but not convinced. "...but I'd miss stuff."
Duo sighed, and barely resisted the urge to push his lover away. "I think you like your online buddies more than me."
That, at least, tensed him up. "That's not true!" he exclaimed, looking over his shoulder.
"Prove it," Duo told him before claiming his lips for a brief kiss.
He lingered, then turned back around, grinding his head against his pillow. "...I can quit any time I want to."
Duo grinned to himself and spooned Heero close. "Then..." he whispered at Heero's ear, "Tomorrow, no morning surf with coffee for you - just the coffee."
Heero stiffened at just the thought, and not in the good way - although Duo's ministrations were having their effects.
"And you're joining me for lunch tomorrow, too," Duo added. "No remaining at your desk to 'check one more email.' Got that?"
He felt mildly compelled to put up a fight, but the soft nibbling at his ear and the grind against his ass made resistance difficult, if not futile.
Duo would have his way with him, as usual.
But he didn't really mind.
But the stares... Sure, he'd expected a few looks, especially from those who actually paid attention to his looks. He hadn't expected the gaping mouths, the blank expressions, the pens slipping out of hands and rolling off desks. The filing girl with the nose ring were one of the few that usually gave a cheerful greeting - and the way her jaw had fallen from the smile, much like the folders in her hands slipped to the floor, got to him more than most reactions.
It was with some trepidation he approached his own office - or in particular, his colleague sharing it. His hand stalled at the handle, but as someone rounded the corner and gasped upon seeing him, Duo figured it was better to get it over with. He entered, and shut the door behind him.
Heero was preoccupied with paperwork, not at all unusual since he joined the codebreaking staff a month ago. "Duo, did you finish typing up the Davies report? Une wants to see a copy on her desk befo-"
That was roughly when Heero looked up. When he saw. When his mouth went agape and words were lost on him.
Duo clenched his teeth. It figured. When he finally pulled off a stunt to make Heero speechless - something numerous and in his opinion quite ingenious practical jokes had failed to - it was for something as simple as this.
"D-Duo, your hair..."
He wrote it all off with a bitter grin and ruffled the back of his head, the stubs barely going higher than his fingers. "You like it?" He waited for Heero to say something, but even the stoic ex-pilot simply stared at him, dumbstruck. Duo moved over to his desk and sat down. "Hey, you're the one who kept saying how it went against company protocol, and how it got in the way during missions, and how it made me stand out when we went undercover."
"...yes," Heero at length admitted. "But I never thought you'd actually... You cut your hair? And that short?!"
He had to suppress a laugh. "Sheesh, it's only hair. What's my braid to you, anyway?"
Heero opened his mouth as if to say something, but changed his mind. He chose to glare at the door, hoping Duo would mistake the slight color growing in his cheeks for fluster rather than embarrassment.
Score, Duo thought.
"...I thought you said it was important to you - that it tied you to your past."
Duo shrugged it off. "Yeah... but mostly, I liked the look. Besides, maybe I want to explore my future now."
Heero slowly faced him.
"Sometimes, you have to give a little to gain a lot, you know."
Heero's brows closed minutely, but he said nothing.
"So..." Duo said, rummaging through the fresh newspaper at his desk, only read once by a certain prissy co-worker seated nearby. "For the more immediate future, I was thinking of the Odeon tomorrow night. There's a new action movie showing. Wanna come?"
"...I..." He couldn't stop staring at the back of Duo's head. If this was another of Duo's pranks, he couldn't see where Duo would have hidden his braid. No, it was actually and quite simply gone.
Duo noticed, put the newspaper aside, walked over to Heero's desk and sat down at one end. "Want to touch?" Not waiting for an answer, he grabbed Heero's hand and put it against the short bristles at the back of his head. Heero's mouth was locked in an 'o' at first, and it took a few heartbeats before he dared move his fingertips.
Very slowly coaxing Duo's grin closer, he dared breathe out "...yes..."
Give a little, gain a lot, Duo repeated in his mind, just before chasing most thoughts away.
Then it got bad.
The day had certainly gotten off with a wrong start, seeing how he woke up nearly an hour late. He'd glared at the busted alarm clock for not waking him. Like a cyclops, it stared back at him through the gaping hole yesterday's bullet had left. Gritting his teeth, Heero had second thoughts whether shooting the wailing box yesterday morning had been an all that good idea.
Then again, Duo had told him to be more spontaneous, as well as to show how he really felt.
Heero had rushed through the bathroom, earning himself a brief scolding in the shower followed by three separate cuts while shaving. He'd dressed on the way down to the kitchen - he didn't trip in the stairs despite pulling a T-shirt over his head - but it would take hours before the small washing tag would tickle his throat sufficiently to let him know he'd put the shirt on backwards.
He'd filled up his usual cup of pick-me-up, only to have his tastebuds learn he'd put cocoa powder instead of coffee grinds in the coffee machine filter. Dismayed, he'd abandoned breakfast, intent on cutting his delay to work in half by leaving home ahead of reschedule.
As he locked up the front door, he noted the neighbor's dog had found and enjoyed his newspaper already, leaving scattered bits of it all across the lawn for Heero to pick up. Not for the first time, he wanted to kill that dog, or at the very least make its life hell - but the owner next door was the sweetest old lady there could be, and she loved the fanged hellion just as much as the beast liked her, never mind the disrespect it showed anyone else. He couldn't bring himself to cause her pain.
But he contemplated the idea of soaking a paper in vinegar.
His car was a second-hand the vendor proclaimed had 'barely been driven at all', something the odometer at first glance attested to. Two weeks later, Duo had clued him in on how it'd been rigged, when they'd gone over the car in detail the first time it broke down.
Heero turned the key, and a grand spectacular of nothing ensued.
Hitting his forehead to the steering wheel three times in succession, he had stepped out, kicked the front tire hard enough to leave his toes hurting, locked up the garage and dashed for the bus stop.
He'd hoped his luck had changed when he made just made it.
There was barely half a seat free, right next to a smelly, more than well-built construction worker busy stuffing a messy baloney sandwich heavy on the mustard down his throat and onto part of his shirt. Worse, courtesy of the hot summer day and the many passengers, the bus fast turned into a sauna.
He'd rarely been as relieved to enter his air-conditioned office, despite how Une gave him a short tirade of 'You're late!', with associates. It took most of the day to figure she wasn't really angry; she just wanted her hands on the report Heero had been working on for most of the week, as it was of great importance for the board meeting next week.
He'd only just started printing it out when the big machine ran out of paper. That was easy to fix - but the machine refused to start up again afterwards. The head secretary of the office pool called for a serviceman, but from past experience, Heero knew that would take all morning.
Back at his desk, he'd barely managed to let out a sigh and sit down before the AC outlet sputtered and died. He resisted the urge to slam his head to the table and cry, instead settling for calling maintenance and rather irately request someone to fix it. They told him they'd send somebody up after lunch.
Through the big window his office sported, the sun shone happily, not a cloud in sight.
Sheer force of will ensured Heero had nearly caught up for being late by mid-day, despite the heat slowly overcoming the cramped space. Unsticking himself from his chair, he had headed for the cafeteria. Unfortunately, by the time he got there, they'd stopped serving warm meals for the day, and he had to settle for a stale cheese sandwich - but at least there was good coffee available, so he stifled the urge to maim someone at random.
Heero delayed his return to his office; he'd assessed his remaining workload to be light, and by his estimates he would be able to leave early - which suited him just fine on a Friday afternoon.
Wufei had intercepted him by the watercooler, and they'd gotten to talking, eventually breaching the topic of Une's leadership style and the aspects of it they disapproved of - if not in so polite words.
Much too late did Heero register the glance Wufei sent over his shoulder - only seconds before a firm palm grasped it, and he turned around to face an Une not looking all that pleased of just having been called an 'psychotic slave-driving bitch', and variants thereof.
Mysteriously, Heero's in-box received a virtual mountain of boring, insignificant reports to process within the hour, all of them for some incomprehensible reason marked 'urgent'.
By four o'clock, the AC unit was fixed, returning Heero's office from a tropical to a temperate climate. He was barely halfway through Une's revenge, but at least the printer had been fixed so he could patch up the damage by handing her the report. He'd hoped to be let off the hook, but she apparently insisted on living up to his label of her as a bitch.
With most people finding better ways to spend a Friday afternoon than being stuck at the office, the queue at the coffee vending machine was at least non-existant. As if pissy of this lack of attention, the machine decided to act up at Heero's third refill after lunch, running haywire and spilling roughly five cups worth of hot, black coffee at Heero's pants; from his knees up inner thighs to more sensitive regions.
The machine was survived by three dozen paper cups in the dispenser and half a gallon of brew slowly leaking from the cracks. Heero attached a post-it note of 'out of service', completely ignoring the frightened looks he got passing the few populated offices and cubicles.
At six, his pants were dry, albeit his skin tender, but he still had a fair amount of paperwork left. He sighed to himself, and barely bothered to look up when the door creaked.
"Hey, man - how's it going?"
He resisted the urge to throw something at Duo. Especially his chipper grin rubbed Heero the wrong way. Nobody deserved happiness when his life was the pits.
Sensing the need for an offering, Duo held up a big Styrofoam cup. "Got you some of that dark Java coffee that you like," he said, parking it at Heero's desk. Under his arm, he'd tucked a bottle of Coke for himself - as well as- "And I stopped by the deli at the corner. They had two Turkey sandwiches left - want one?"
He eyed Duo suspiciously for a moment, then let go, nodding. He removed the lid of the cup, took a deep whiff, closed his eyes and sighed contently. Hastily, he removed the plastic wrapping of the sandwich, shoving a good portion of it into his mouth before sinking his teeth into it; bliss for his taste buds.
Duo gave a soft chuckle, obviously finding him entertaining. He shot the pile of paperwork a glance. "Want me to help you out with that?"
Heero was about to answer a very grateful 'Please', when a bare foot out of its shoe brushed along his ankle, pushing his pant leg up to play soft toes against his shin. He sent Duo a look, watched him raise his brows, grin broadly and give a quick wink to seal the offer.
"But maybe take a break first?"
Heero took a deep sip from his coffee, and for the first time that day, he started to truly smile.
Maybe life wasn't so bad, after all.