19-Sep-2005
Title: Fluff
Author: Natea
Pairing: Heero/Duo 2+1
Rating: PG
Category: Fluff
"Brought you a coffee," Duo called from the hall as he entered the small apartment he shared with Heero. He slipped his coat onto the rack hanger by the door, balancing the two cups with practiced ease in his other hand, and walked into the living room.
Heero looked up from his position on the floor and nodded. He braced himself on his elbow and reached up with his free hand as Duo held out the Styrofoam cup.
"Thanks."
"No worries." Duo nodded towards the open laptop. "Abrahams said he'll grant you a twenty-four hour extension on the deadline. The pressure's off."
"I've nearly finished," Heero sipped gingerly at the hot coffee and rubbed at his eyes, feeling the ache that came from staring at a computer screen for too long. Glancing at the clock he was shocked to see he'd been working for a good eight hours now. He rolled over onto his side and propped himself up with his elbow. It was definitely time to take a break.
Dropping gracefully onto their rather battered looking brown sofa Duo grinned. "You made your peace with it I see," he said, looking at the rug underneath Heero.
Heero sighed, "It's tacky."
"It was a gift." Duo said softly. It had been one of a number of items given to them at an informal house warming party a few months ago. Duo had believed it would live out its life in the small closet in the bathroom but for some reason it seemed Heero was willing to give it a try.
"It's fake." Heero's argument was only half hearted though.
Duo shrugged, "What isn't nowadays." He snorted, watching the way Heero's bare feet were constantly on the move, sliding over the surface. "Feel good?"
Heero ran his hand over the long, fluffy, grass green fur. It was surprisingly soft against his palm and the wispy edges brushed his wrist with the slightest breeze.
"It does." Twisting a section of the fibres between his fingers he smiled, "It's us."
"Aye," Duo agreed. "It is."
He stretched out on his stomach on the couch, matching Heero's line, and cushioned his head against his arm.
"You know," he mused out loud, "Quatre tells me they sell cushions in the same material."
"No."
The End
(:./natea/fluff)
