24-Mar-2004
Title: Of Pink Lace, Spandex, And Things That Go Boom
Author: Kierendral
Genre: Humor, Contemplated Shonen-Ai, Almost-Spoof
Pairings: Eh... misleading 5+1, and mild 2+1
Rated: PG-13, maybe R for talk of sexual content and swearing.
Warnings: Sillyness, pink-lacy underwear, swearing, stalking, guessed
and implied shonen-ai
Archived: Nope, I ain't got no website for this stuff. :(
Feedback: PLEASE! *sobbing* I just want to get -better-...
Notes: I -know- I'm going to regret having started this, but I felt the need to start writing fics again. Please, please, please read 'n review. I need the comments. I don't care if it's: "Your fic sucks J's weird old ass and you should be stoned!" I just want something so I know how to improve. Thanks. ;) - Kier
- 5:03 a.m. Sunday -
*...grrrrrglb*
(No.)
*grrrllllllgdlb*
(No way in hell.)
*grrrOWERglb*
(Son of a -bitch-,) Duo thought wearily, cracking an eye open to observe his rebellious stomach who was growling defiantly, no matter what his brain told it. He knew that it hadn't been a good idea to skip both lunch and dinner the day before. Duo was no stranger to hunger, but he'd stupidly eaten an apple for breakfast, and his cranky metabolism, running pretty low from the 2nd day straight without a crumb to eat, had decided to take the offending fruit as an indication that more food would be forthcomming.
(Stupid -cocksucking- stomach!)
Duo, being Duo, had opted for the hard way out of his last mission, and so his expectant tummy was deprived of the second two meals of the day while the God of Death outran a pesky Oz light artillery unit before returning, the malevolent light of victory in his eyes, to the safehouse.
Four and a half sleepless hours later, Duo's stomach had decided to cut the crap and wake Duo up. Relinquishing his well deserved rest period, Duo got to his feet, wincing slightly at the way his knees crackled as he shifted from a crouch to standing position.
He silently made his way around the slumbering form of Trowa, who, having not been there when the pilot of the Deathscythe had gone to bed, must have come in during the wee hours of the morning having completed his previous mission. Shooting an envious glare at Trowa's peacfully resting form, Duo escaped the maze of blankets, futons, and sleeping bags to slip quietly out the door.
Making his way to the foyer area of the small house by aid of moonlight alone, Duo searched around for the duffle bag he knew he'd dropped somewhere in the vacintity when he'd come in earlier that night. "Where -is- that poor excuse for a-" Duo stopped mid introspective mumble as his eyes lighted on his bag, half-way under the lone couch in the adjoining living area. Doing a small dance of maniacle victory, Duo pounced on his bag, ripping through the smaller compartments of various equipment searching desperatly for-
"Ah-HAH!" whispered Duo ferociously as he clutched the candy bar to his chest, and grinned. Quickly pocketing the object of his stomach's insatiable quest, Duo began to stuff all of his strewn equipment back into his duffle bag. Spotting only half of his battery changer's casing, Duo's smile slipped slightly, quirking into a half frown, and he bent down to look under the couch for the missing-
*creeeeeeeek*
(Behind me.)
Without thinking, Duo wriggled further under the couch so the intruder wouldn't be able to spot him without at least turning on the lights to the room. Dust bunnies tickled Duo's nose, as he fought the urge to sneeze and attempted to concentrate at identifying his enemy in the living room by analyzing his footsteps. Doing a mental check for weapons, Duo mentally cursed himself for having the brilliant forsight to leave his knives and gun in the bedroom.
(The guy seems light enough,) Duo thought noticing that other than having poor luck in hitting a particularaly squeeky floorboard, the assailant hadn't made another noise above a whisper level. (I might be able to take him by physical attack if necessary. God knows I don't want to,) Duo thought grimly, (considering my right hand's outta commission, but Heero isn't the only who can force his body to function, even with a damned broken body-part.)
Before Duo could forumlate a plan, the mysterious man uttered a string of curses in Chinese under his breath in a tone that Duo found frighteningly familiar. (What in all hell is -Wufei- doing up this time of night? He didn't freakin' -have- a mission, and he's not up punching walls...) Duo continued to puzzle as he watched the Chinese boy rumage around in a duffle bag. Deciding to reveal his identity, but not without scaring the living daylights out of his compatriot, Duo pulled himself mout from under the couch in the stealthiest manner he could concive of.
And was rendered absolutly speechless by the sight of Wufei Chang standing over a dufflebag swearing at a pink-frilled, lacy white thong. Unable to contain a small choking noise that was threatening to excape his mouth, Wufei was immediatly alearted to Duo's presence, and spun around quickly, blanching at the sight of Duo standing there, one eyebrow raised in obvious inquiry.
Without even a slightest trace of blush, Wufei slipped the underwear up the sleeve of his white over jacked, and said quite calmly: "I can assure you, Maxwell, there was a perfectly good reason for me to be rumaging through Heero's bag."
Duo's brain, tired, hungry, and unwilling to process the last comment made by the Chinese boy sputtered, slowed, and finally crashed as his jaw dropped at the mere concept of Heero owning the undergarment that Wufei had slipped up his sleeve. Maxwell's jaw worked silently for a few moments until it finally settled for the blunt yet to the point approach of a, "What the fuck do you-"
*click*
Both boys turned, Wufei blanching a little, while Duo's hand, which had instinctivly gone for the knife that wasn't there, halted, as both pilots recongnized the boy on the other end of the unflinching, instense, annoyed, cobalt glare.
[To be continued...]
Comments, please! I've been out of circulation for so long, I want to hear how my first fic in two years is doing so far. :)
(:./kier/pink1)
