25-Dec-2003
Author's Notes: The pairings are various, and the only warning I can think of is that Zechs is dumb as a stump in this one, but I promise it's for comedic value only, and that no harm was done to any actual bishonen during the making of this fic. ;)
There are some days when everything simply seems to go wrong. It starts with something simple, like hair that refuses to lay flat after a restless night's sleep, despite multiple attempts to wet it and force it into position, or a crick in the neck that refuses to fade, preventing any sort of activity that would require turning the head. It then progresses, as these things usually do, to a series of ridiculously clumsy catastrophes, where every inanimate object with which the unfortunate soul comes into contact displays not only a personality, but a foul disposition and a vicious sense of humor.
On these days, it is recommended that the victim *not* try to hang Christmas lights. This brings us to our vict- er... the subject of the story. Observe, if you will, one Heero Yuy, a fellow of few words and fewer manners.
"@#$%^@#$* Christmas," Heero muttered, glaring at the tangle of wires and tiny bulbs that had the nerve to defy him. He didn't even *want* to be stringing Christmas lights! It was a waste of time, money, and electricity!
It was also, by this point, a matter of pride. It had all started, as so many disasters did, with Duo.
"Hey, Hee-chan," the long-haired lunatic had said.
"Don't call me Hee-chan. I hate that."
"Yeah, whatever. How come you don't have your lights up yet?"
"I don't do Christmas."
"Yeah, but..." Duo had continued, somewhat sheepishly, even in spite of the Icy Glare of Death Heero was levelling at him. "Your neighbors already have all kinds of lights on display."
"So?"
"So... your house looks kind of bad."
" ...it does?"
"Only in comparison!"
That had done it; Heero had rushed out that afternoon and bought $50 worth of Christmas lights to decorate his house. He'd had more than enough of Treize Khushrenada and his snooty, classier-than-thou attitude; he wasn't about to let that snob feel superior over a few light bulbs!
Unfortunately, the lights that looked so charming on the box and advertised ease of installation proved to be Demon Lights from Hell(TM). They also did not come with the little plastic clips needed to install them; once Heero had finally gotten the mess untangled (through dint of much cursing, gnashing of teeth, and yanking of wires) he had to go back out to the store for the clips.
The "easy install" clips failed to live up to their name. They persisted in springing free of the eaves they were supposed to cling to; Heero would no sooner get one pair of clips in place than the previous pair would bound free, dragging the string of lights down with them.
It didn't help that he was about three inches too short to do any of this comfortably. He had just finished wrestling the first string of lights into place and was rubbing at the ache in the small of his back when Duo came back, grinning from ear to ear and carrying a plastic, light-up Santa statue.
"Hey, you need this for your yard!" Duo called, and deposited the Santa in front of the low bushes surrounding Heero's house. He carefully didn't mention that Quatre had refused to let him keep the Santa figure, stating that it was "too tacky for words!"
"Hn," Heero replied.
"Aw, c'mon, don't you think it's cool?"
"It's easy to install," Heero said. "That's definitely a plus."
"Could you use a hand?"
"Yes. You finish this; I'll put the lights on the bushes."
There was one thing that could be said for Duo Maxwell; he possessed an unending store of energy for this type of task. He hummed cheerfully as he hung the rest of the lights; those easy-install clips really made the job a cinch! He also managed to turn a deaf ear to his friend's muttered cursing as the "easy install" web of lights for the bushes refused to untangle. As soon as he'd finished with the overhead lights, Duo climbed down and helped with the nets for the bushes, which untangled as if by magic as soon as he touched them.
"Hn," Heero said, glaring at the perfectly-spaced lights sourly.
"You're welcome," Duo replied. "Got any hot chocolate? This is thirsty work!"
Thus it happened that Heero managed to get his Christmas lights in place, yet ended up with absolutely no chocolate in his entire house. It was worth it, though, just to know that that obnoxious Khushrenada and his even more obnoxious house-mates would have no cause to scoff at him. Again.
The next morning, Heero woke feeling much more cheerful. His hair was behaving (as much as it ever did), his neck no longer hurt, and best of all, the whole mess with the lights was *over* and he wouldn't have to worry about them again! He smiled as he pulled on his galoshes and heavy coat and trundled off down the driveway to pick up his morning paper. It was going to be a good day.
"I say, marvelous morning, isn't it?" Heero was passed on his way to retrieve the paper by a tallish, ginger-haired man, returning from fetching his own papers. Treize Khushrenada was a snob and a braggart, and liked to sit on his back porch and read aloud to his two lovers news articles of interest from the half-dozen or so international newspapers he had delivered to his house every day. Each was in a different language, from German to Chinese, and Heero was certain, just *certain* that he was either making things up or reading from a translation.
The older man slowed, deliberately, in order to allow Heero to reach the end of his driveway, and pick up from the slush his single, pitiful local paper (Khushrenada had little boxes for his under his mailbox, so that he never had to stoop down to pick up a sodden paper from the *ground*). Then he waited for Heero to catch back up, giving another try at being neighborly with the strange, sullen boy who lived next door.
Pulling his eyes up from scanning the front of the rolled paper foremost in his stack, the horrible man recited the day's weather from memory while pretending to forecast it himself. "Looks like it's going to warm a little by the afternoon, with any more snow holding off until tomorrow at earliest. Perfect weather for working on holiday decorations, isn't it?" Critical eyes flicked to Heero's yard, strung unevenly with several puny strands of lights and the unholy tackiness of a light-up *plastic* Santa Claus.
"Yes--perfect weather," Treize continued. "My workmen might be able to finish today with putting up the *rest* of my decorations, provided they hurry. It will probably be several hours of work at least to co-ordinate all the electric window candles to flicker exactly in unison, but the finished effect is dramatic--SO worth a little extra effort, don't you think?"
Then the horrible words fell, the ones which made Heero cringe and shudder uncontrollably. It was that *exact* same feeling he got, of impending doom, when, somewhere, Relena was including him in her thoughts.
Only worse.
Khushrenada smiled at him, one of those too-many-teeth smiles that large predatory creatures give to smaller, tasty ones. "I say, you're getting started late on your decorations. You'll probably want to hurry, if you want to be finished in time for Christmas--*this year*."
The fresh-risen sun, peaking over the neighboring houses, *gleamed* off the whiteness of the man's teeth--Heero swore it. It *gleamed*, and then a little breeze picked up, just for the purpose of ruffling the man's ginger bangs in an aesthetically pleasing, manly fashion, and an adorable little sparrow flitted down and perched on his shouder, twittering a song into his ear.
The smile intensified.
Heero felt like vomiting. He couldn't decide whether to forcibly wipe the smile of Khushrenada's face with his soggy newspaper, or try to use his Icy Glare o' Doom(TM) to frighten the sparrow into taking a dump on the pompous ass's shoulder.
Instead, he growled out a polite "yeah" and headed toward his house, walking with the stiff strides of one who knows he's being watched. Khushrenada was still standing there and grinning when Heero stalked into his house, carefully *not* slamming the door.
Damn it all to Hell! He'd have to put up MORE lights! All because he didn't want to give that smarmy bastard an excuse to smile that glow-in-the-dark condescending smile and twitter about him with his simpering, smarmily condescending lovers!
Muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "Merry *damn* Christmas!" Heero stalked off to the bedroom to get dressed. First, he'd call Duo and Quatre to come help, then he'd go out and get more infernal lights.
And chocolate. This was going to cost him a lot of chocolate.
A mere four hours later, Duo was carefully stringing *more* lights from the eaves, and Quatre was just as carefully adding more to the bushes, making certain that the nets weren't overstretched at any point, so the lights would stay evenly spaced.
The plastic Santa Claus was now accompanied by a plastic sleigh and eight plastic reindeer. Duo and Quatre had argued rather bitterly about it, and neither of them was now speaking to the other as they worked.
Heero was busily climbing up into the nearest of the huge pecan trees that filled his yard, dragging a string of lights behind him. He'd always loved his trees; they were attractive without requiring maintenance, and they gave shade in the summer time and pecans in autumn. Of course, they made it harder to mow his lawn, but he felt that the bother was outweighed by the loads of free pecans he harvested each year.
Yes, he'd loved his trees... until now. Cursing and muttering, he clambered up into the first of the six trees, determined to string lights through their branches. There was no way Khushrenada could top that!
The problem was, the pecan trees didn't seem to *want* to have lights strung in them. The first branch Heero tried to edge out on snapped beneath him, and if he hadn't been holding onto one of the higher branches, he'd have fallen! Grumbling and cursing even louder, Heero pulled himself up to the higher branch, hampered by the string of lights, which seemed determined to wrap itself around his left foot no matter how he tried to wiggle it loose.
It didn't help his temper nor his efforts any to catch sight through the bare branches, of a pair of eyes, peeking through a slit in the blinds of Khushrenada's side window! Someone, either Khushrenada himself, or one of his insipid lovers, was watching him! And laughing, probably, too, and-
Heero was rather certain that while dealing with Christmas lights, that particular 'crunch' sound was not a good one.
Sure enough, the damned tangle around his left foot had slipped, and in trying to gain footing on the limb he was standing on he'd caught the bulb beneath his shoe and crushed it.
"Rassenfrassen-!" Heero snarled. Damn it all! Now he had to climb back *down* to get another red light bulb, because he sure as Hell wasn't going to give those next-door ninnies the satisfaction of remarking over tomorrow morning's newspaper pickup that the color bulbs were out of sequence! Still grumbling unintelligible curse words such as "flangerangdangle" and "mundane noodle," Heero shimmied back down the tree to get the spare bulbs.
There were NO spare red bulbs. This left him with two choices: he could go back to Wal-Mart for red bulbs, or go over the entire strand of lights and rearrange the bulbs to cover for the missing red light.
"Be right back," he told his sullen friends, and drove off. An hour later, he returned from Wal-Mart, furious enough that the imprint from his fingers remained on the steering wheel of his car after he'd let go. Wal-Mart didn't have any replacement bulbs; he'd ended up buying two new (shorter) strings of lights to replace the one with the broken red bulb.
Red-faced and muttering louder than ever, Heero shimmied back up the tree with his new lights, and started carefully stringing them along the branches. After this one, there would only be five trees left to go...
"Oi, Heero..." Duo at this point had finished loading the eaves with even MORE lights, such a great weight of them that surely the gutters were pulling away from the roof with the strain! He wandered over, half curious to discover what all the cussing was about, and half hoping that Heero didn't have any more work for him, and that he could go inside and have some hot chocolate.
Looking up to watch Heero's spandex-clad behind shimmy down the trunk, (ladders are for sissies like that Khushrenada!), Duo jumped aside just in time to avoid being caught in the head by Heero's shoe. "You, ah, done with this one?" he patted the tree fondly, pointedly NOT asking if Heero needed help with the others! "'Cause I'm finished with the house."
"No, you're not," Heero said, scowling. "There's still the windows and outlining the sidewalk to do." Duo was starting to look distinctly mutinous, so he added grudgingly, "And then I have plenty of hot chocolate for both of you."
"Ok, man, but you know if you weren't our friend, we'd have left by now," Duo said, and trotted back over to give Quatre the bad news. Heero shook the knots from his arms and shoulders, then scooped up the next string of lights and prepared to scramble up the second tree. Personally, he didn't see the point in any of this nonsense. Next year, he'd go away for Christmas. Maybe on a cruise to a tropical island with NO Christmas lights or trees or carols or any of that other nonsense. And especially no next-door neighbors!
Or maybe he'd sign on to work on a fishing vessel. He'd certainly had enough experience untangling stubborn lines of lights and shimmying up into high places to be able to deal with fishing lines and crow's nests. And on a fishing vessel, everyone would work hard and sleep hard and leave him *alone*.
"Merry damn Christmas," Heero muttered, swinging himself up into the lowest of the tree's branches, and that's when he heard it.
*CRUNCH!*
"Oh..." Half-way across the yard, that dread sound brought Duo to a halt, and he turned on his heel. "Forgot to tell you. After you left, Quatre found a few spare bulbs in one of the empty boxes. So, you don't need to scavenge the other string for bulbs," he added helpfully, before trotting away.
At Khushrenada's window, the crack in the blinds disappeared, as did the watcher. It had to have been Khushrenada, as not a minute later he appeared out the front door, dressed in a dark, stylish coat very unlike Heero's bright green, sensibly warm one. On his hands were gloves, white ones of all things, that Heero had never seen the least bit soiled. How the man managed to keep so clean in the middle of the slushiest, grimiest season of the year was a mystery.
The annoying man pretended to only now catch sight of his younger neighbor, and what he was doing, and ambled near. He was very careful to keep to the sidewalk and driveway, to avoid tracking *footprints* onto the pristine, undisturbed blanket of his lawn. "Oh, you're adding more lights," he drawled, having to raise his voice a little to be heard across the distance. "And... oh, look -- plastic reindeer for the plastic Santa. Very... festive."
Heero's shoulders slumped a little, though thankfully his thick jacket concealed the motion. So the plastic light-up figures were tacky, were they? That figured. They were inexpensive and easy to install; it only stood to reason that they wouldn't be good enough for the likes of his snooty neighbors. He had to deliberately concentrate on *not* gritting his teeth as he turned around to face his nemesis, and felt another light bulb crunching between his foot and the tree's trunk. He could swear that the light gleaming off all those teeth was more blinding than the sunlight sparkling on the snow.
"Khushrenada," he said grudgingly. "Nice weather for hanging lights."
"Isn't it though?" The grin bared savegly, flashing enough light to nearly be blinding. "In fact, I was just thinking that my front trees could use a few more -- for balance," he smirked, not about to be outdone by a pipsquick the likes of Heero! "Of course, you're going about it the wrong way. I think I'll bring in one of those utility trucks with the extendable buckets. So much easier, smarter than climbing like a monkey! And of course necessary, as my trees are *so* much larger than yours..."
"Funny that you didn't think of the idea yourself, then," Heero remarked, forcing a smile in return which, rather than merry, actually looked a little frightening. He wasn't going to respond to the monkey remark, he wasn't, he *wasn't*!
"I just did," Khushrenada returned, smugness not even ruffled as he turned on a heel, swirling an imaginary cape around him. He *marched* for his house, not even a true military march, but one which was only accomplished by wearing enormous boots with three inch heels on them. It gave his stride a pronounced *sway*, which made Heero feel rather close to retching, while at the same time made him wonder why his cheeks felt hot and tingly.
Must have been the cold. Yeah, that was it.
Heero scowled, and slithered down the tree to fetch replacement bulbs. Thinking ahead, he decided to put a packet of the bulbs in his pocket; that way he at least wouldn't have to climb up and down each time. He then climbed back up the tree, feeling much like a cat who'd been rubbed the wrong way. It wasn't until he started to pull himself up onto the branch that he realized his mistake, as the pocket full of light bulbs got caught between his body and the tree limb.
*CRRUNCH!*
To move, and risk the shifting contents of his pocket slicing into his skin, or to remain perfectly still and eventually freeze holding the exact position he was in--those were Heero's choices. In the end what decided him to *move* wasn't the thought of death. Not at all! A man had to be ready to die for the causes he believed in, and Heero *firmly* believed in showing up that snob Khushrenada! No, the reason he decided to move was the flashed image he got, after being frozen indecisively for half an hour at least, of Treize's handsome face, standing below and staring up at his frozen, tree-hugging corpse, and sniggering.
'That doesn't count as a Christmas decoration unless he's wearing a little hat or something,' was probably what Khushrenada would say, before turning on his heel, taking a lover under each arm, and sashaying for his majestically-lit mansion.
Well, Heero wasn't about to give him that pleasure!! So, he shimmied back down the tree, wincing as glass shards breached the defenses of his clothes and stuck his (delicate, but he'd never in a lifetime admit it!) skin. After that it was a trip inside to the bathroom and the first-aid kit, storming past a lounging Duo, who nearly spilled his hot chocolate in his haste to get to his feet and pretend to be busy. "Say, Heero? You got those trees finished yet?"
Heero glared at his friend, trembling in fury and indignation at the injustice of the entire Christmas-light farce, and Duo braced himself for a verbal onslaught that would surely be bad enough to give him nightmares for the whole Christmas season and probably *loud* enough to render Heero completely voiceless for the same amount of time. Luckily for both of them, all Heero managed was a blistering "NOT A FINGER!" before stomping back outdoors.
Duo waited until his friend was safely halfway up the tree before falling out of his chair laughing.
Heero glared at Tree #2, which had up until now resisted his efforts to decorate it. Maybe he should move on to #3, and do every other tree, so if he got tired it would still be something of a pattern. Of course, he couldn't do *that*, because it would also be something of a defeat, and he wasn't about to let a pecan tree outwit him! This time, he grabbed the edge of the packet of lights in his teeth and approached the tree.
A pecan fell and bounced off his head.
The branches overhead were quickly surveyed for enemy squirrels, valiantly attempting to defend their domain from the grumbling invader. When none were discovered, Heero made the obvious assumption that the tree itself was trying to attack him.
Surprisingly, instead of the tree's hostility, and Khushrenada's, weighing heavily on his spirits, Heero seemed almost bolstered. It was as if the addition of another force against him strengthened his resolve. His eyes narrowed, a vicious grin took his lips, and he took several steps back for a running start, and *launched* himself at the tree.
And so what if he DID look like a monkey shimmying up it with a packet of lights between his teeth and a string of them lassoed around one shoulder!
"Yes, sir, can I help you?"
Heero glared at the weary-and-cranky-looking WalMart clerk.
"I need more lights."
"We have lights in strings of 50," the clerk said, bored. "Right over there."
"Don't you have any longer strings?"
"We have lights in strings of 50," the clerk repeated, rolling his eyes. "Right over there."
"Thanks. You've been a huge help."
"You're welcome, sir. Thank you for shopping at WalMart."
Heero snorted. WalMart apparently wasn't too discriminating in hiring policies; their clerks didn't even seem capable of perceiving sarcasm when they heard it. If he bought lights in strings of 50... it would take boxes and boxes of the things just to light one tree!
The clerk grinned as the cranky, dark-haired young man stalked away. Customers just got stupider and stupider as the season wore on; at this rate, that guy would buy out all the Christmas lights stock!
Edging towards the stacked display of boxes, Heero of course had to choose one near the *bottom* of the stack to look at, thereby toppling the top portion of the leaning pyramid onto his head. But, in his defense it must be noted that the boxes at the top of the stack had all been toppled before, and handled many times, and were crinkled with bashed-in edges, and much the worse for wear. Those at the bottom were still pristine.
It took him ten minutes to get the stack re-arranged to his liking, exact and *so* much more structurally sound than it had been before! Only then did he get to look at the single box he'd pulled, that had started the avalanche to begin with.
Fifty lights. Fifty clear little white lights. He tried to calculate the number of strings it would take to conver the three remaining trees adaquately, and found that he lacked a critical portion of the equation. Fifty lights said nothing at all about the length of the string, or the density of lights-per-foot he could expect. Reading the box gave him no answer, though it did provide the helpful information that the lights were string-able end to end (score!) but that the maximum recommended number of strings applied so was a paltry three.
Three.
/Ha!/
A peek *inside* the box had shown him exactly what he'd needed to know. By using the information that the lights were spaced approximately seven and three-eights of an inch apart (and taking into consideration the wasted wire at the ends where there *were* no lights) he was able to calculate the exact number of boxes he would need for maximum coverage of a pecan tree approximately thirty feet tall and fifty in diameter.
It was a number far greater than 'three'.
Growling under his breath about the stupidity of the people who had labeled the box (easily as stupid as the clerk who had helped him -- but the lights *were* Wal-Mart brand, and they must pull from the same resumé pool when hiring for clerks *and* Christmas light box labelers), Heero proceeded to pull twenty boxes of the lights from the *bottom* of the stack and toss them into his cart.
Then, he surveyed the mess he had made of the pyramid he'd just neatly stacked, and the cart, and double counted his number, and decided himself victorious. /That'll do for the third tree. Now I just need the same for the last two./
And THAT was when he saw it.
Mixed into the spill of damaged boxes was one which *wasn't* like the others. It was slightly longer, had silver lettering instead of green, and had contained, not 50, but 200 lights!!!
Ignoring the primary rule of shopping at Wal-Mart at Christmas time, Heero abandoned his cart, gripping the box of 200 lights in a claw-like hand, and stormed off to find that horrible clerk. He found the youth sorting Christmas cards back to order, yawning and looking bored, and (incidentally) doing an incrediby incompetent job. Why, green envelopes were mixed wtih red, were mixed with foil lined! Had Heero been the slacker's boss, he would have fired the idiot on the spot!
"Can I help you?" the clerk drawled, turning. He must have said the required phrase so often that his tongue and lips moved automatically, because he didn't look in the *least* like he wanted to be of any service!
So, it was with great pleasure that Heero shoved the box of 200 lights in the clerk's astonished face, and ground out through gritted teeth, "You LIED to me."
"Did not," the clerk replied. "I said there were strings of 50 over there. And there are. And by the way, someone just swiped your cart."
Heero let loose with an expletive that curled the clerk's hair, then stormed back to the pyramid of boxes. It was too late to track down the thieving bastard who'd run off with his carefully-selected boxes; he'd have to make do. He quickly pulled out the least-battered-looking of the remaining boxes and stacked them on top of the precious 200-light box, then carried the teetering pile over to the register.
Where he waited. And waited. And waited...
"Excuse me, sir?"
"What?" Heero snapped at the cashier.
"You're going to have to move to another line. This one's closed."
"No."
"Sir..."
"You should have said something *before* I waited 55 minutes. You're waiting on these other people."
"They were here before I decided to put the 'closed' sign up."
"So was I."
"Sir, you were not."
"LOOK!" Heero snapped. "I've been waiting in line for a long time now! I demand that you check me out!"
Several of the people within earshot snickered at the double entendre, until Heero turned to *look* at them. They suddenly discovered vast, heretofore unimagined pleasure in studying the toes of their shoes. If Heero had been less intent on quelling his urge to *throttle* the cashier, he might have wondered why his presence had that effect on people.
Cashiers were either high enough on the food chain that they *had* no natural enemies--and hence no flight instinct--or were infernally stupid and bred like rabbits. Whichever case, the end result was the same. The one Heero was facing down didn't seem to notice the signs of impending violence sparking in dark blue eyes. "Sir... If you want to be checked out, you should go over to that line. I'm sure Dorothy would be happy to do it."
"No," Heero said stubbornly. "You can either check me out *right now,* or I'll be speaking to your manager about this."
"Sir... I *am* the manager."
Such a stumbling block would have thwarted a lesser shopper. Heero merely squared his shoulders and demanded again, "I'll be speaking to *your* manager. Surely there's a regional manager, a company president, SOMEONE who can get me checked out *right now*."
"Sir, there is," the cashier repeated, pointing. "Dorothy. If you'll just step to the end of her line..."
"No!" Heero said, finally snapping and allowing one foot to stamp. "I waited in line! And now it's my turn, damn it, and I want *you* to check me out! *RIGHT NOW!*" It wasn't the wisest move; if the cashier *had* had any intention of being helpful, Heero had just blown it.
"Sir, I'm going on my lunch break now. If you want to wait until I come back in 45 minutes, be my guest."
/Forty-five minutes?!/ Surely the cashier was joking! Else he'd never tangled with a man of the fierce determination and patience as Heero Yuy! Why, Heero had once waited for *three days* in near freezing temperatures--perched in a tree--just to wait for Duo to drop by for a visit, so that he could play a practical joke. A mere forty-five minutes was no deterrant!
Heero crossed his arms and *glared* "Very well. Of my choices, I choose to wait."
"How much longer do you suppose he'll be?" Quatre asked impatiently. "I did have other plans in mind for the day, besides watching men work in Heero's neighbor's yard."
"Man, they're really going to town," Duo commented, watching as the workers Treize had hired added still more lights to his house and bushes. "And I dunno. He said there'd be chocolate in it for us, so I'm waiting for the chocolate."
Just then, Heero pulled into the driveway, got out of his car and noticed the men hard at work in the neighbor's yard. Duo and Quatre watched, astonished, as their normally stoic and sedate friend began yelling obscenities and shaking his fist.
"Gee, he's really got better language skills than I gave him credit for," Duo commented, as Heero delivered--at top volume--a particularly colorful insult involving Treize's parentage. "Never heard that one before. I give him a '10' for creativity."
"I don't think he brought any chocolate," Quatre said, irritated. Heero had given up shouting in the general direction of Treize's hired help, and stomped over to begin unloading the trunk of his car. "Looks like nothing but lights. Why on Earth did he buy them in 50-bulb strings?"
"Geeze, how can you tell from here?" Duo asked, flipping his braid over his shoulder. "Just a lot of-" The other boy fell silent, suddenly intent on the *fascinating* happenings in Khushrenada's front yard. /Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact. Don't make-/
"Duo, what are you-?" Quatre's impatience moved a notch closer to a boil, as, turning a questioning glance to Heero, he had the misfortune of being snared by glowering blue eyes.
Heero *smiled*. Or rather, he bared his teeth in an only moderately frightening manner, and crooked a finger at Quatre. "Come. Help me with these."
"If there's any cocoa, I'm drinking all of it so that you can't have any. So help me God I'll spoon it down dry if I have to," Quatre grumbled to Duo, as he trudged off the porch, shoulders slumped.
"Sucker." Duo bolted back into the house, before Heero Yuy could fix the Glare of Compelling Doom on him too, and put him in the same predicament as poor Quatre. He couldn't feel *too* awful about shirking, because, well, he'd been promised chocolate, and not gotten nearly an amount appropriate for the work he'd already done. Only a fool did more work on an already steep cocoa deficit. Heero could just pay up the cocoa due, plus an advance, before he got any more work out of *this* best friend!!
"Back so soon?" Quatre asked, forcing a polite smile as he approached Heero; dealing with the perfect soldier in deadly-glare mode felt much like being faced with an unpredictable, wild predator of some kind, but Quatre was, by that point, too tired--and too chocolate-deprived--to be intimidated.
"@#*(_#$ Wal-Mart," Heero replied. "@#$*(@#)$ Khushrenada! @#$*()^% Duo for starting this whole mess!"
"Funny," Quatre said, tight-lipped as he peered into the trunk of Heero's car. "I don't see any cocoa in here."
Cocoa. He was supposed to have gotten more cocoa, wasn't he? His lack of cocoa went a long way to explain Duo's sudden beeline for the house. To see him scuttle, one would think it was a concrete bunker in the midst of heavy gunfire!
"No cocoa," Heero growled. "They... didn't have the kind I like. Say, while Duo's cowering inside, do... something about those." He indicated with a thrust of his jaw the plastic Santa and eight tiny plastic reindeer. Festive, were they? Heero didn't need a Yuy-Khushrenada dictionary to know that 'festive' meant tacky; convenient as they were, they had to go.
"Heero," Quatre said sweetly, "if you don't give me the cocoa you owe me, you won't *like* what I do with those."
This was war, Heero reminded himself. War against that smug Khushrenada bastard, and as in any war, there would be casualties.
It was just a shame that he'd already become rather attached to the jolly plastic Santa's rosy red cheeks. But when he glanced toward the elf, sleigh and reindeer, he imagined a rather unpleasantly... hostile expression in nine sets of beady plastic eyes.
"I don't care what you do with them, so long as they don't stay there." And if Duo dared to come outside to complain about the plastic ornaments' plights, well, Heero would put his cocoa-guzzling ass to work!
Speaking of cocoa-guzzlers... Heero turned a frosty expression on the petulant Quatre, chilling the blond's lesser dishumour like a brisk autumn breeze seared in an arctic blast. "So, the only reason you're helping me is cocoa, is it? What happened to loyalty, to friendship? Really, I understand that Duo's mercenery--it's his upbringing-- but from you I expected better."
"Now, that's not fair!" Quatre grumbled. "Look, there's loyalty and *loyalty*, you know. I've worked for five hours out here in the freezing cold, helping you with your Christmas decorations! I could've been at home all this time, snug and cozy in front of the fire with a cup of cocoa and a good book, but no~ooo! I came all the way out here just to help *you*, you ingrate! And all I ask in return is a measley cup of cocoa to warm up the fingers that have probably gotten frostbitten on *your* behalf! Is that too much to ask? Because if it is, I'll just leave right now!"
Heero blinked. He'd never have expected sweet, gentle Quatre to light into him; it was rather like being bitten to death by a butterfly. How could anyone plan for a contingency like that?
Worse, how did one respond to a situation for which one had no contingency plan? There was *always* a contingency plan, even if it encompassed throwning oneself out of a thirty-story window, or self-destructing into a thousand little pieces.
Heero's thumb itched nervously, but no shiny red button came to his rescue. He rubbed his hand against his thigh. "Gee, uh, Quatre... I, uh, didn't know you felt... that... way about it."
"Well, I do," Quatre sniffed, relenting a little when he noticed Heero's discomfort. "All right, I'll tell you what. You go back out and get cocoa, and I'll get rid of Duo's tacky Christmas statues. Deal?"
"Deal," Heero said reluctantly, and slouched back into his car. If he never set foot in another WalMart again, it would be too soon!
Quatre watched as the car slowly pulled out of sight, then turned to glare menacingly at the wide violet eyes peering out through Heero's living room window. "All right, Maxwell," he said, knowing full well that Duo could read his lips. "You get your skinny butt out here and start hanging lights, or there will be NO nooky for you! Capice?"
Duo, hampered by the rime of frost his breath cast on the window panes, pressed his nose to the glass and squinted. "Troubador Vinny struts out wearing heavy tights, to scare and beat my bookie's moose! You see?"
/Wait... that can't be right. Quatre doesn't have a bookie./
Quatre glared, then decided to change tactics. With a sweet smile, he crooked his finger at Duo in an unmistakable "come hither" gesture. Duo grinned and went thither with alacrity, but his smile fell when Quatre's first words to him were, "Start hanging lights right *now* if you want to get laid before New Year's!"
"Wha~at?" Duo whined. "What'd *I* do?" Quatre glared at him--Heero wasn't the *only* one who knew how to do the Icy Glare o' Death(TM)--and Duo reluctantly shambled over to the tangle of Christmas lights, dragging his feet.
His feet left long scuff marks in the snow, small drifts forming around his ankles. Procrastinati- er, scuffling was so much fun that he scuffled right on past the tangle of lights and out into the yard. Stupid Heero and his stupid competition-with-the-Khushrenadas could hang Heero's stupid Christmas lights! Duo couldn't see how he could be expected to, weakened as he was from hunger and lack of cocoa. "I don't want to hang lights," he mumbled, scuffling to the center of the yard. "Hey Quatre, come and make snow angels with me! We'll have plenty of time to do lights later."
"Duo Maxwell!" Quatre snapped. "I won't make *anything* with you if you don't do your share of the work! Do you get my meaning?!" This was accompanied by a frosty "you are SO not getting any" glare, the likes of which Duo had never seen before.
"Fine!" Duo finally snapped back. "I was just trying to inject a little holiday cheer into this fiasco, but no~o! It's got to be your way or the highway, doesn't it? 'No light-up Santa for you, Duo!' 'Get back to work, Duo!' 'I'm going to drink up all the cocoa, Duo!' You know what, Quatre? You are being entirely SELFISH!"
"SELFISH?! SELFISH?!" Quatre stormed over to him, leaving furiously-stomped footprints in his wake. "I'll show you selfish, you cocoa-guzzling little-!"
"Deck the hall, with boughs of holly! Falalalala, lalalala!" a trio of voices interrupted. Quatre turned, red-faced, to see Heero's neighbors standing on the clean-shoveled sidewalk, caroling. Heero's nemesis Khushrenada was accompanied by a stunning, tall blond man and an equally captivating Chinese fellow, the three of them decked out in matching red sweaters and Santa hats. They were grinning widely as they sang, and Quatre couldn't help but give something of a sheepish smile in return, embarrassed as he was to be caught in the middle of a family quarrel. The carolers had excellent voices; surely their joyful singing merited a treat of some kind in return.
Quatre only hoped they weren't cocoa drinkers!
The trio finished their first a cappella number with each taking a different complex (and obviously highly-choreographed) harmony. They ended in perfect unison, and, still smiling widely, gave perfect, even bows to Duo's enthusiastic applause.
"Hey, they're pretty good!" he elbowed Quatre, adding in a fierce whisper, "I'm glad Heero's not here to ruin the performance. He'd probably pull a Scrooge and run them off under a hail of snowballs." And when Heero threw a snowball, he didn't fool around. Practically the size of basketballs, they were, and packed nearly as hard as ice.
"Yes, they are," Quatre replied, shuddering at the thought of Heero throwing snowballs. Being up against Heero in a snowball fight was comparable to fighting a horde of berserkers with a pea-shooter. After a moment, Quatre added in a stiff-lipped whisper, "Don't think this conversation is over, Duo."
"Conversation, over? What conversation would that be?" Duo inquired softly, fluttering his eyes in what he hoped was an endearing manner. Quatre probably wouldn't do anything to him in front of strangers, but to alleviate the temptation Duo sidled out of reach. "That was great -- put me right in the Christmas spirit," he congratulated the singers, doing his damnedest to ignore the icy chill emanating from where Quatre stood just beyond his shoulder. "If you're not in a hurry, why don't you come inside, warm yourselves up. I know *I* could stand some warming. We'll see if Heero has any goodies in his cupboards, and maybe you could do some more numbers. Hey, do you know 'Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer'?"
The three singers exchanged a silent conversation of waggling eyebrows. The final decision was Khushrenada's -- probably had something to do with the eloquence of his especially strange eyebrows -- as he gave a nod and extended an arm, allowing Duo to take the lead. "Yes, I believe we'd like that. Carrolling is a tiring pleasure, and we could stand some refreshing before we're on our way."
"Duo!" Quatre hissed, but his long-haired companion blithely led the way into Heero's house, waving the neighbors through the door with a wide grin.
Heero's living room was... sparsely furnished, to say the least. One wall was lined with bookshelves, full to sagging with tomes on everything from Shakespeare to Nuclear Physics for Dummies. Opposite the wide picture window there was a fireplace, and near the fireplace was a single beige recliner chair and a lamp, obviously where the master of the house preferred to spend his leisure time. The only other furnishing in the room was a sofa covered in rich burgundy velvet; it had at one time resided in Quatre's house, and it had only been through severe bullying and relentless nagging that Quatre had convinced Heero to accept the hand-me-down piece. The glossy, natural wood floor was unmarred by anything frivolous or warming like area rugs.
The kitchen was equally austere somehow; though Heero had stocked it with the best culinary appliances money could buy, they were all stark white, as were the sparklingly clean countertops. Somehow the effect of all that gleaming white and chrome was rather... antiseptic.
"How... charming," Treize said, raising one eyebrow and trying not to smirk. He had no need to worry that his neighbor was out-doing him in the Interior Decorating department! Zechs merely looked around, lost, while Wufei snorted and headed toward the couch.
Treize darted out a hand and caught the Chinese man by his pigtail, stopping him dead. "You'd better not," he warned, a painfully tight smile stretched across his face for the benefit of their hosts. "You don't know where that couch has been." /Or what it's had done to it./ He almost finished with 'unless you want to disinfect yourself head to foot before coming back in OUR house', but something about the little blond fellow's less-than neighrbourly frown persuaded Treize to hold his tongue.
"Oh, man!" Duo exclaimed, yanking open another cabinet to find... not much. Heero's cupboards were hopelessly bare. And even if they did manage to scrounge together some treats, Duo suspected there weren't enough glasses and plates in the house for so many! /What in the- Microwave popcorn? Heero doesn't even OWN a microwave!/
"There's... um..." Duo began, but at the sound of a vehicle coming to an abrupt, screeching halt outside his countenance brightened. "Why, that's gotta be Heero now with the cocoa!"
"#@$%(@) Christmas and @#%()_% neighbors..." Heero was muttering as he stepped into the house. He froze at the sight of his arch-enemy and compatriots in HIS HOUSE, and while he was standing there slowly reddening in fury, Duo took the opportunity to swipe the box of cocoa mix from his hands.
"Hey, perfect timing as usual, buddy!" Duo said cheerfully into the silence that had fallen over the room; Heero was glaring at Treize, who was trying desperately hard not to smirk or, God forbid, burst out laughing. "I was starting to think we wouldn't have anything to give the carolers, and what kind of Christmas spirit would that be?"
"YOU-!" Heero bellowed, crimson with outrage and fury. "Out! OUT! EVERYBODY OUT!" Amid cries of outrage, Heero threw the others, Duo and Quatre included, out the door, cursing Christmas in every language he knew. In Duo's case, Heero first pried the cocoa box out of tightly-gripping fingers and then propelled the other pilot bodily out into a snowdrift; Quatre followed shortly after, and Heero slammed the door behind them hard all enough to jostle several strings of lights from the eaves.
"Well," Duo said after a long moment. "At least we can make those snow angels now."
Wufei crossed his arms, and turned to give the recently-slammed door a dirty look. "How rude. If he were a woman, I'd accuse him of PMS-ing. But he has no excuse."
"Now, Wufei..." Treize chastised gently, "you have to remember that the holidays are stressful times, especially for people like Mr. Yuy. Imagine how he must feel, living alone in that empty house, with no one to warm his bed or to fill his days with cheer."
Zechs's eyes roamed between Duo and Quatre, a thought straining visibly behind them. "Does this mean we don't get any cocoa?"
"No, Treize said decisively, sitting up and leaving a perfect Treize-shaped imprint in Yuy's lawn. "It means we do it ourselves, and do it *right*. Would you two care to join us, and share in the Christmas spirit over at our house?"
"Well..." Quatre began, but Duo interrupted with a loud "YES!"
"Duo..." Quatre said, giving his long-haired partner a glare. It wasn't just that it felt vaguely disloyal to go traipsing off to Khushrenada's house while Heero pitched a fit; Duo still hadn't heard all Quatre had to say from their interrupted "discussion" of earlier!
"C'mon, Q, it's COCOA!"
It was the magic word. Quatre rolled to his feet and followed along with the rest of the merry group.
From a corner of the picture window, Heero glowered after them, shaking with anger and foaming at the mouth.
"Kill... maim... mutilate... destroy..." he muttered, an unholy glee lighting his eyes. That was it! The solution! He'd just have to kill Khushrenada, and then life would go back to normal! He watched, livid, as Khushrenada and his slimy lovers led HIS FRIENDS into that house. Through their cheerfully lit windows, Heero could see the group of them laughing and chatting over steaming mugs of cocoa, then gathering around a piano while Khushrenada, curse his soul to Everlasting Hell, played Christmas carols!
Christmas carols! And of *course* that smarmy poser would know how to play the piano! And Duo and Quatre--*Heero's* friends--were smiling and laughing and singing along!
He was just going to have to kill them all.
"Duo..." Quatre whispered, during a lull in Silent Night. He'd been reduced to humming three verses ago; how long *was* this dang song?! And how did Khushrenada know all the words?! "Duo, I think... maybe we ought to get going." Not that the cocoa, the singing and the general cheer weren't nice. No, Quatre's desire to depart was precipitated by the fact that he felt... funny sandwiched between Khushrenada's two friends. He hadn't minded very much when they'd each hooked an arm around his shoulders, but then the tall one's arm had slipped to his side, then to his waist. If it fell any lower, Quatre would NOT be held accountable for any resulting slaps!
Plus, he suspected that Heero was watching them from across the way. That is, he'd assumed that the two glittering spheres peeking between a slit in the blinds were Heero's eyeballs. If they weren't he didn't want to know, but either way it was scary!
"Aw, so soon?" Zechs purred, letting his fingers slide just a fraction lower than the short blond's waistband. Quatre glared at Duo meaningfully. For a few moments, Duo debated the merits of staying; it was entertaining, to say the least, watching his lover all flustered, but on the other hand, Duo felt possessively irritated that the tall blond would make the moves on *his* Quatre right in front of him.
Possessiveness won out. Duo grabbed Quatre's hand and drew him away from the little group, slinging an arm around Quatre's shoulders. "Yeah, well, you know how it is," he said. "Time to go have ourselves a merry little Christmas, just the two of us. But thanks for the cocoa--it was terrific!" Quatre played along stiffly, the tense resistance in his body more than enough clue for Duo that the argument between them was far from over.
"If you must-" Wufei said, disappointed.
"Really, we must," Quatre replied. "Thank you so much for a lovely time, and Merry Christmas!"
"Yes, Merry Christmas," Zechs muttered, his expression sulky as a child's denied a desired toy.
"...in heavenly pea~ace!" Treize finished, lifting his hands gently from the keys as his rich tenor caressed the final note. There was a beatific smile on his face when he turned, saying over his shoulder, "My, that was lovely, wasn't it? Shall we do another?"
Then his eyes opened, narrowing immediately to slits, and the smile melted like a snowman in the desert at high noon. "What happened?" he demanded of his two companions. "You let them leave?"
"Yeah, they seemed to want to. Pity," Zechs shrugged, tossing his hair. "That little blond had a nice ass." He thought ponderously for a moment, then added, "Not as nice as mine, of course."
"Of course," Treize gritted, lowering the key cover none too gently. "Still, I'd envisioned a pleasantly entertaining evening, which now will have to be foregone."
Wufei bit down on a smirk. "I didn't see you throwing yourself in front of the door to prevent their leaving. But the evening's not a loss -- we'll just have to find another means to keep ourselves entertained."
Zechs's eyes, beneath their luxurious fringe of wheaten hair, were puzzled. "You mean... no sex after all?"
Treize stood from the piano stool, a motion replete with fluid grace, and patted Zechs's cheek. "Angel," he purred, "there is always sex. However, I feel that tonight would be a good night to employ the proverbial 'new twist'. Tell me -- have you ever worn a gag?"
"I can't believe you let them go on like that!" Quatre hissed, stomping toward the car and pausing with his hand on the door handle to wave cheerily at Wufei and Zechs through the window. Through his happy, fake smile, he growled, "You are so in the doghouse, Maxwell. As if it wasn't bad enough already!"
"You know what, Q? You need to loosen the fuck up. I wasn't going to let anything happen to you." Duo paused to wave happily as well, then climbed into the car and started the engine. "And I did get you out of there, and this is the kind of gratitude you show!"
"GRATITUDE? You do the LEAST that could be expected of you, as a gentleman who allegedly cares about his partner, and you expect GRATITUDE?"
"YEAH! I'm saying a little gratitude would not be amiss!"
"Well, just FORGET it!"
"FINE!" Duo snapped, and then carefully backed the car down the driveway and pulled out into the street. "...This means I'm not getting any tonight, doesn't it?"
"You'll be lucky if you get any this *year*," Quatre retorted frostily, and then both of them turned their angry glares on the road ahead, refusing to speak further.
From the dark corner of his window, Heero watched the car pull away. Eventually, the downstairs lights of the Khushrenada house went out. He watched as, one by one, the upstairs lights were put out; he assumed that the last one was the bedroom.
With a cold, furious smile, Heero Yuy slipped out into the chilly night, grabbing up a plastic candy-cane lawn ornament on his way. He'd just break into the house, murder the inhabitants, and vanish into the night. He had to restrain the urge to chuckle in a most un-Christmasy manner as he entered the Khushrenada lawn. Much as he wanted to stomp all through the unblemished snow, he stuck to the shovelled driveway and sidewalk. No sense leaving footprints behind for the police to see, and he couldn't count on the snow melting before the crime was discovered.
Breaking into the house was ridiculously easy; Khushrenada had a security system, but bypassing it was child's play. Heero carefully pulled the door to behind him and slipped up the stairs, his shoes leaving wet clumps of snow melting into the expensive carpeting. He padded down the hallway, heart pounding; it was crucial that he catch Khushrenada unawares, because otherwise bludgeoning him to death with the plastic candy cane could be difficult.
The thought of committing cold-blooded murder did give him pause, but he recalled the many insults Khushrenada had offered, right down to stealing the idea of decorating the pecan trees. No, Khushrenada had to die. The neighborhood wasn't big enough for the two of them.
Heero carefully eased open the door that he thought would lead to the bedroom, and found himself in a small room which was obviously being used for storage. As his eyes grew accustomed to the pale moonlight streaming in from the window, Heero realized what was being stored.
The room was full... boxes and boxes...
Khushrenada had obviously bought every 200-light string of Christmas lights in the entire town! Shorter strands strung end-to-end weren't good enough for Khushrenada's trees, naturally. But all the *extra* boxes... they hadn't even been opened!
If Khushrenada's neck had been the ornamental candy cane, it would have snapped like a twig. Heero's hands ground down on the plastic, warping it beyond any use as a weapon. The nerve of the man! The utter, utter NERVE! First he bought up all the 200-light strings, not intending to use them, but merely to rob his enemies of decorative ammunition! THEN he failed to destroy the evidence, leaving it plain sight for Heero to break in and discover.
"Smug, taunting bastard," Heero rasped, blindly opening the first package of lights his groping hands could find. The chronic red haze of rage had turned purple, splotchy and obscuring. "Bludgeoning's too good for him. I'll strangle him with his own tactical advantage!"
A sound issued from the room across the hallway, freezing Heero in the act of fashioning his light-studded garotte.
"What's taking Zechs so long?" demanded an irritated tenor.
"He's probably lost again," a second voice sighed.
"How could he get lost on his way to the bathr- Oh."
Wufei sniggered. "This is ZECHS we're talking about."
"We've lived in this house for longer than he can remember! Where is the difficulty in finding the second door, right-hand side?"
"We... could use all those extra Christmas lights to make him a path. You know, sort of like how runway lights guide landing airplanes."
Khushrenada considered. "Ah, no. No, I don't think that would be wise. Do you recall the time you tried to coax him to eat tomato soup? Half a year later, he couldn't hold a spoon without making propeller sounds as he 'flew' his cereal to the 'hangar'."
"Oh... yes." Wufei sniggered again. "How could I have forgotten?"
"That's it -- I'm going to find him." Bed springs moaned softly. "Slipper one, slipper one... ah, slipper two. Where is my dressing gown?"
"The satin one... got torn."
A pause. "The silk?"
"Stained. I think the wool one is wadded up beneath the bed, somewhere." Wufei added helpfully.
"Oh, hello," a voice said right behind Heero; he spun to see Treize's vacant-eyed blond boy-toy standing behind him. "Your other friends left, so you came to play with us? That's great!" Heero gasped, heart hammering in near-panic as the blond managed, with a quick, practiced twist of the wrist that shouldn't have been possible, to wind the string of lights around Heero until he couldn't move. The lights, as all Christmas lights are wont to do, immediately wound themselves into tight, unfathomable knots, which would be all but impossible to untangle.
He was trapped! Hoist on his own petard! Bound with the infernal hoarded lights of his infernal enemy!
Zechs grinned and dragged him, squirming furiously, across the hall to Khushrenada's bedroom. "Look what I found!" the blond crowed, pleased and proud of himself. "And he's into Christmas bondage, too!"
"There you are," grumbled a lump on the monstrous bed. "We were just about to send out a search party for you."
"Wufei..." A figure that had been groping beneath the bed skirt stood, and languidly approached the blond and his captive.
A *naked* figure. Thin moonlight filtering through the gauzy window curtains accentuated a chisled chest, powerful thighs. A pert, firm ass. It was the sort of ass which scorned tan lines. Which never sported a panty line beneath tight-fitting trousers. Which never showed unsightly hair. Which was rubbed nightly with baby oil to keep the skin supple, and give it that mesmerizing luster. How in the HELL did Khushrenada find time to ruin Heero's life?! The ass-maintenance required for such perfection was probably equivalent to a full-time job!
Khushrenada chuckled. "Zechs! How marvellous! You've brought us an early Christmas gift! Shall we plug him in and get a better look?"
Confronted with a naked Treize, Heero was blushing hard enough that he practically glowed in the dark without the benefit of Christmas lights. He sputtered furiously and managed to stomp one foot in protest as Zechs merrily plugged him in.
As Heero began blinking on and off, it occurred to him that he could still *bite*. He lunged after Zechs, intent on killing any way he had to, and ended up with a mouthful of fuzzy terry cloth.
"Ah, that tickles!" the blond complained, and tried with a tentative tug to free his robe. "Treize, he's got my robe and he won't give it back."
Treize was pacing a slow circle around captive and captor... and captive, stepping easily over the trailing Christmas light cord. "Zechs, angel, think the situation through," he advised.
The lump on the bed snickered. "You said 'Zechs' and 'think' in the same sentence."
Zechs gave another half-hearted tug. "I think... Heero is part pit bull. We might have to wedge something in his jaws and pry them open."
With a frustrated sigh, Wufei crawled to the edge of the bed, reached for Zechs, and yanked the robe off his shoulders. "Idiot. Just take it off. You don't need it. You never wear it to bed."
Comprehension slowly pulled Zechs' mouth into a grin. "Oh. Right -- you're right!" He did a little wriggling spin, leaving Heero with a mouth full of robe and *two* naked neighbors to contend with.
THREE naked neighbors. Wufei sat back on his heels, wordlessly shaking his head.
Heero's jaw dropped, and the robe fell to the ground. While the cranky fellow was still in utter shock, Treize stepped in and laid a hand, heavy with authority, right where it would do Heero the most good.
"What do you say, boys?" he asked, grinning that special, manly grin that had always struck Heero as being unfairly sparkly. "Shall we unwrap our Christmas present now?"
Heero gasped, and his eyes all but crossed. He'd kill them all. Later.
Much, much later.
(Much, but not *much* much) later...
"Are you still angry?" Duo asked, praying that Quatre's answer had changed in the five minutes since he'd last asked.
"Maxwell," Quatre snapped icily. "I'm getting *angrier* every time you ask that!"
Duo's hand flinched away from the shoulder it had been about to tentatively rub. "And you still won't tell me why."
"You want to know WHY?" Quatre bellowed, over his shoulder because he wasn't about to give Duo so much as a single glance until he'd cooled off. "You want to know WHY? You--you LET those perverts make lewd advances toward me! And when I looked to you for support, you were LAUGHING!"
"WITH you, not AT you." What the hell? Duo had hours ago run out of logical things to say, and this particular line had won him hot make-up sex in past arguments. It couldn't hurt.
"You can't laugh WITH someone who is NOT! LAUGHING!" Quatre shrieked. "Go to sleep and stop talking to me, Duo, or so help me God you'll end up on the COUCH before the night is through!"
Duo gasped. "The COUCH?! You can't kick me out of bed! It's my bed! OUR bed! Quatre, please..." he wheedled, carefully resting his hand on Quatre's hip. Above the sheets, naturally; he wasn't brave enough to risk actual groping just yet.
"THAT DOES IT!" Quatre bellowed, and jumped out of bed in full ZERO-system mode. "OUT! Get OUT OF THIS ROOM, RIGHT NOW! Or I will DRAG YOUR ASS OUT OF BED BY THE BRAID!"
Having shrieked all this at the top of his lungs, Quatre had to pause to cough before adding, "RIGHT THIS MINUTE!"
Duo blinked twice. "Hey, Quatre. Since you don't want to sleep with me, and since you're already out of bed, why don't YOU go sleep on the couch?"
The suggestion was enough to push Quatre completely over the edge. With a wordless shriek of fury, he dragged Duo out of bed by the braid, hauled him into the hallway, and slammed the door in his face. "Because YOU'RE the one who LAUGHED!" he shouted at the closed door, furious and miserable. "So GO AHEAD AND LAUGH IT UP ALL BY YOURSELF!"
"THAT HURT, DAMMIT! Quatre! Quatre... Can't we talk this over? It's Christmas Eve!" Duo tried the handle, though he knew the door would be locked. "You know what -- FINE! Me and my poor, abused braid are going to go sleep on the couch! But tomorrow you'll be sorry for what you did, and you'll owe me the BEST make-up sex in the whole HISTORY of make-up sex! You hear me, Quatre?!"
"You're not getting any TOMORROW, EITHER!" Quatre roared. "I'll stay in here all day if I have to. So MERRY DAMNED CHRISTMAS!"
"SAME TO YOU!" Duo snarled at the door. "I'M RETURNING ALL YOUR PRESENTS! AND I'M DRINKING ALL THE COCOA, TOO!"
"Bastard!" Quatre gasped, stunned by the sheer mean-spiritedness of the threat. Miserably, he got back in bed and curled up in the middle of the warm spot Duo had left behind, and pulled a pillow over his head so he wouldn't hear whatever other cruel comment Duo could come up with.
It was the worst Christmas ever.
Heero stared dreamily up at the ceiling, still panting as he watched the blinking lights illuminating the room for brief moments at a time. Every muscle in his body was utterly exhausted, and he was surrounded by three equally spent, smugly happy, beautiful men. He was almost disappointed to have lost an arch-rival in Treize, but it was worth it for this moment, warm and sated and utterly comfortable, listening to the church bells chime in the beginning of Christmas.
Zechs mumbled something sleepily, and looped one arm around Heero's waist to drag him closer, and Heero finally went to sleep with a smile on his face.
It was the best Christmas ever.
The End
(:./yoiko/xmaslights)
