Fingertips
by kebzero
Just once, I'd like to get through breakfast in peace. Heck, I almost did, this time. With the other guys away on missions, only Heero and I are left at the safehouse, and he's usually very quiet.
Key word being usually.
I still have half a sandwich, a cup of coffee and most of the morning paper to go. He's all done. He's also tapping his fingers at the table; four steady beats to the wood, short pause, four beats, pause... It's irritating, and damn distracting. I shoot him an annoyed glance. I get a cold, miffed glare in return. He's impatient. He asked me a question a little earlier, and didn't like the answer I gave him. Now, he's waiting for me to change my answer.
Four beats, pause. Four beats...
I try to ignore it and concentrate on my paper. I take a bite of the sandwich, and wash the dry thing down with coffee. He still glares icicles at me. I can't help but wonder what's next - will he give me a quivering bottom lip, or even an outright pout, just to get his way? I wouldn't put it past him.
Four beats, pause. Four beats...
The bastard knows it's working, too. He's only testing my resolve now; trying to see how long I can stand the little annoyance. From the corner of my eye, I can see him forcing back a smirk. He's gradually losing control over it.
Four beats, pause. Four beats...
I'm wavering. He's always been a bit slow to take the initiative. It's always been my job to get things started. Maybe I should grant him this much. Still...
Four beats, pause. Four beats...
I growl. I've had it. I give him my best frown. "Okay, okay, okay - fine. I'll let you lick whipped cream off my chest later. Now quit that and let me finish breakfast!"
The drumming stops cold. The damn bastard grins openly at me now, his eyes grows lecherous and predatory, giving me a sense of being devoured already.
With a grunt, I return to my dry sandwich, boring paper and cooling coffee. Maybe I can still-
You know that expression, 'give someone the tip of your finger, and they'll take the whole arm'? I think Heero does. Either that, or he can read my mind. If so, giving him naughty thoughts at opportune moments could be amusing.
Of course, now isn't one of those times.
"And eat cherries out of your navel."
Again, I growl at him, and rustle the pages of the paper, holding it up as a defensive barrier.
Four beats, pause. Four beats...
Paper down to table. I scowl at him, far stronger than he did to me earlier. His face wears that damn knowing smirk again, he's only waiting for me to cave again.
Four beats, pause. Four beats...
He knows I will, too. I fight the urge to grin back at him. I lose.
But in the end, we both win.
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