18-Dec-2001
Title: Inferno's Touch 20/?
Author: Ravynfyre (ravynfyre@hotmail.com)
Archive: GW Addiction, Darkflame
Category: Humor, Action, UST
Pairings: to date - 4x3, 6x5
Standard Disclaimer: All parts of Gundam Wing are Not Mine. It's all Theirs. *sigh* Too bad, but otherwise, I guess I'd never get anything done *happy hentai thought*. Anyway, not makin' any money offa this so dun sue me. You'd only get some college debt, a few dogs, and a pair of fuzzy bunny slippers anyway. Ya know. blood. Turnip. Do the math.
Rating: PG mainly for some language
Warning: UST (Unresolved Sexual Tension) sorry, no lemon yet. Yeah, I know. It's close. I promise
Spoiler: None.
Notes: All terms will be explained at the end of each chapter. If I miss something, please let me know and I'll be happy to explain.
Feedback: Yes, please. All comments welcome (although flames may be fed to my dogs, who, since they have notoriously gassy intestinal tracts, will be spending the night with the flamer afterwards)
For a brief moment that seemed to last forever, Duo couldn't quite remember where he was. Despite the slick warmth of his favorite blanket sliding along his skin, and the familiar almost sweet scent of his shampoo barely detectable through the open bathroom door across the room, something felt. off about his bedroom. No, not really off, but different. As he lay there motionless in his bed and concentrated, it suddenly struck him.
There was someone in his room with him. An almost inaudible bellow of exhaled breath from the tangle of afghan on the papasan chair beside his bed gave the intruder away. Now why the hell would anyone sneak into his house to fall asleep in his papasan chair?
Duo sat up in bed slowly, running a hand through the tangled mess of his bangs as he contemplated his visitor from a new angle. Heero had shifted positions in his sleep, tipping the chair back little by little until the top was almost parallel to the floor, like a bird's nest, and then tucked up under the blanket from the living room couch until all that could be seen of his head was the chaotic tumble of his messy brown hair peeking out from the cheerfully knitted afghan. Blinking with confusion, Duo turned and eyed the LCD on his stereo, cocking his head as he realized it was late afternoon. He must have been worn out to have slept this long!
Especially if Heero was here napping with him.
As he arched his back in a bone-popping stretch, the events of the previous day slowly started reasserting themselves in his memory. The fire in the hotel where they rescued that psycho-rich-chick, Zechs' sister, the drowning, all those automatic alarms and aid calls, and that massive mansion fire over in Panther Prairie, one, right after another, until Heero had offered to drive him home so he didn't fall asleep behind the wheel. Again.
Duo swung himself slowly around until his toes just barely touched down on his blue carpet, pausing there and leaning back on his hands as he contemplated the papasan chair and the huddle of blanket and firefighter cradled within. Heero chose that moment to shift position again, and Duo was half afraid that he'd accidentally woken the Japanese man up. Pulling the knitted blanket up under his chin with one hand, pillowing his opposite cheek in the other, Heero subsided back into sleep, and Duo forgot to breathe.
Other than when he'd drugged the other man in the hospital, he'd never actually seen Heero sleeping before. Every other time one of the two of them had ever ended up staying at the other's place, Heero was almost always up first. If not, he always seemed to wake up either before or as Duo was entering the room. While they were at work, Heero was always up and getting dressed before Duo had swung himself out of bed when they got alarms at night, and the Japanese man never indulged in an afternoon nap, even when they had completed all their training or were on a Sunday or holiday schedule. The difference between a sleeping Heero and an awake, even expressionless Heero was.
Duo shook his head, sucking in a quiet gasp of breath as he struggled to find words, any words, to adequately describe it.
He couldn't finger any one change, or even a group of them. There were just too many of them, and most of them so small as to be almost unnoticeable, but they were there, and their sum total created a Heero that he'd never seen before. Heero's brow was relaxed, lacking the tiny lines near his eyes and hairline that always made him look like a cat about to jump through the roof, or a lion on the stalk. The drawn tenseness of his mouth had faded, leaving behind a soft quality that bespoke the quiet humor that Duo had been given rare glimpses of over the last few weeks. The dark lashes lying against Heero's cheeks didn't even twitch as the Japanese firefighter exhaled a quiet sigh, though his mouth parted and his tongue slipped out to moisten his lower lip briefly. Even while standing motionless, Heero had never looked so still before, despite the gentle rise and fall of his chest.
For one wild instant, Duo wondered if the image would waver if he simply stuck his finger out, like ripples of water spreading out from the center when you drop a pebble into a mirror calm pond. Duo shook his head suddenly, banishing the crazy idea even as he remembered to breathe again. He *had* seen this expression on Heero before, or something similar.
Three nights ago, in fact.
He'd gone to Jake's to celebrate being out of the hospital, not stopping by to pick up Heero because he'd figured the other man would be glad to finally have some peace after the previous week. Duo had spent the night trying to keep his mind occupied, plying his other firefighter friends with beer and cajoling them into games of darts and pool in an attempt to quiet an odd restlessness within him that had driven him to the bar in the first place. Nothing he did, however, seemed to help quell the slowly rising sense of almost. panic until he'd gone back to his table by the front window to grab a fresh bottle of beer, and happened to glance outside onto the street. It was the flashy white motorcycle that grabbed his attention at first, until he'd recognized the lithe form leaning over it an instant later.
Before he realized what he was doing, Duo had leaned out the front door and called to Heero while the light was still red, urging the other man to come inside for a beer and a game or two. The light changed to green even as Duo ducked back inside and silently asked himself what he thought he was doing. He watched through the glass upper panel of the door, grip on the darts in his hand so tight that it left grooves in his skin, as Heero glanced up at the green light, and then over at the front door of the bar.
And when the Japanese man had slowly pulled his bike up on the sidewalk beside Duo's Harley, the braided man remembered to breathe again. He bounced over to the table, catching up another beer and then met Heero at the door, pressing one of the bottles into Heero's hand before dragging him off to challenge the guys of Engine 6 to a few games. They didn't stay for too much longer after winning a few rounds, Heero opting to 'get Duo home before he passed out', or something like that. One of the guys promised to get Duo's bike home for him, so he hopped on behind Heero, and the two of them rode around for a little while. They paused outside Duo's garage by mutual accord, watching the night sky as Heero confessed that he'd been doing that earlier before stopping at Jake's.
As they stood together in companionable silence there on his driveway, staring up at the stars, Duo saw an unfamiliar expression slowly drop over Heero's face. Calm. Contemplation. Quiet. Stillness.
As Duo's eyes focused upon the still slumbering firefighter once again, his brain finally supplied him with the word he'd been seeking all along.
Peace.
It hadn't taken too much convincing to get Heero to come inside and sack out on his couch, rather than trek across town to his own empty apartment with the Japanese man in such a mellow, peaceful mood. Duo remembered feeling relieved. Not so much that Heero wouldn't be risking the drive back home when he was so obviously worn out, but that Heero was staying *there*. With him.
"Maxwell, you got it bad," he whispered to himself, leaning forward to bury his face in his hands for a moment. Tilting his chin up, he peered between his fingers, absorbing more of the sight of Heero still sleeping so calmly not three feet away. With a twang of regret, he realized that it would probably be the only time he'd ever get a chance to see the sight, and busily set about memorizing every moment of it.
A quiet groan rose from the pit of his stomach as he suddenly realized that the growing ache in his nether regions wasn't a muscle cramp building up, but the result of watching Heero obliviously snoozing away. "Worse than bad," he muttered, rising to his feet and pulling the top blanket off his bed to drape over Heero carefully. He was almost disappointed when the other man didn't awaken, but continued sleeping. Then again, if Heero had woken up, how would Duo have explained the uncomfortable, and obvious, tent in his boxers? 'Morning wood', Heero would be the first to point out, would only work if it were morning. Which, as Duo observed when he cracked the shades to peek outside, it just as obviously *wasn't*.
With a sigh, Duo turned towards the bathroom, some daring, and masochistic, urge making him strip off his boxers and toss them back on the bed as he headed off to find a shower.
A very *cold* shower.
"Bet Heero never has this problem," Duo muttered darkly as he flicked on his stereo on his way past. "God, life just isn't fucking fair."
It was the soft murmur of a surprisingly talented voice singing along with the equally soft lull of the stereo that eventually dragged Heero from sleep. Deep blue eyes fluttered open slowly, reveling in the unusually gentle transition from unconsciousness to alertness, an unexpected change from his normal instantaneous leap between the two states.
It felt nice.
There was just something so homey and welcoming about Duo's home that none of the places Heero had ever spent a night at before offered. His soldierly, rational brain hissed a warning to him about that, and the comforting state of lethargy that was overtaking him more and more with each extra minute spent here. The rest of his mind, however, had already told the 'soldier' to fuck off.
The drapes across the room had been cracked a few inches, though the light seeping through the crack was more orange than the bright gold Heero had been expecting. For a moment, he almost instinctively lurched up from the chair and tangle of blankets, but only for a moment. What difference did it make if it really was early evening or late afternoon as opposed to late morning? What else did he have to do with his life right then anyway?
Besides. This weird chair was way too comfortable to leave just yet. Especially given its prime location.
Upon the tail end of that thought, Heero opened his eyes again, instinctively seeking the braided driver. Duo's bed was empty, and while not yet made, seemed to have been put in some sort of order from the last time Heero had peered upon it and its chaotic tangle of blankets and sheets. Duo, himself, however, was nowhere in sight. The quiet tenor drifting out of the open bathroom door gave the long-haired man's presence away as Duo sang along with the muted song playing on the stereo.
Heero settled back into the papasan chair for a moment, letting his eyes drift closed again as he listened to the mixed sounds of music and the occasional splash of water that seemed to impossibly blend with and compliment Duo's voice.
Spice, Vanilla, and Hazelnut. The occasional curl of steam wisping out from the open bathroom door smelled strongly of the shampoo that Duo favored at the firehouse, with a fainter trace of something spicy and masculine. It was oddly soothing.
Taking advantage of the relaxed atmosphere, Heero settled the blankets around his shoulders again and let his mind wander where it would even as his ears strained to absorb Duo's faint voice. He wasn't sure why he was so surprised every time he heard Duo sing; it happened often enough at the firehouse, both in jest, and in earnest, that he should be well acquainted with how talented Duo was by now. It was just another of those things that never ceased to amaze him about the braided man. Like how skilled a cook Duo was, or how insightful he could be as they watched the news and current events together.
With a guilty flush, Heero realized that he'd always underestimated Duo, and even when confronted with the proof to the contrary, was continuing to do so. He felt his mouth thin into a hard, self-depreciating line. Duo deserved better than that.
He sighed softly, flexing the hand he'd used to seize Odin's arm as it twinged with a precursor to a cramp. Shaking his head sharply, Heero shoved thoughts of 'Odin' from his mind. The implications of the dream, for that's surely what it had to be, were mildly frightening to the Japanese firefighter. He must have simply clenched his hand too tightly while asleep, straining muscles already stressed from the heavy workload the day before. The alternative had too many unsettling implications to contemplate.
He was startled out of his thoughts when Duo swept out of the open doorway, a brush clutched in one hand while his other attempted to tame the thick mane of dark chestnut into something resembling order.
"Oh. Hi. Um. I didn't wake you up, did I?" Duo asked, a little surprised himself at seeing Heero awake and sitting as upright as he could in the tipped back papasan chair. He dropped the handful of his hair as he self-consciously reached down to hitch the towel girding his hips just a little bit higher.
Heero tore his eyes away from that hand, blinking as he dragged his gaze back up to Duo's face and shook his head once. "Hn. I overslept," he said quietly by way of explanation. "Was just ready to wake up."
"Oh. Cool. Umm.. I was just finishing up in there. You can take a shower if you want when I'm done. We're about the same size, so you can borrow something of mine to wear 'till you get home, if you want," Duo replied, his brow furrowing slightly as he listened to himself and realized he was starting to repeat himself.
Heero didn't seem to notice, traces of his previous sleeping peace returning to his expression as his eyes wandered aimlessly over Duo's body. Prussian blue locked onto violet, and the faintest trace of a smile hovered at the corners of Heero's mouth. "Aa. Arigato."
The moment dragged on undisturbed until Duo blinked, swearing silently to himself as Heero suddenly looked away and started untangling himself from the blankets. The instant before he'd looked away, Duo could have sworn that Heero's cheeks had started to darken with a faint blush.
"I'll be back out in a sec," Duo said quickly, turning on his heel and vanishing back into the bathroom. He paused a few steps in, swore under his breath, then ducked back out to his closet for a moment to grab the fresh boxers and t-shirt that he'd originally come out for, before retreating back to the safety of the bathroom again.
Heero heaved a silent sigh of relief as Duo vanished, swallowing hard as he attempted to forget what Duo looked like clad in nothing but a towel and wet hair. Not that it mattered much, as his brain helpfully substituted a memory of Duo in the communal firehouse shower, sans towel. He screwed his eyes shut tight helplessly, a quiet groan slipping from his pursed lips as his brain continued to parade the memories past him like a movie stuck on endless loop.
"You okay, Heero?" Duo called from the open doorway.
"Fine. Just stiff," Heero growled in response, keeping his teeth clenched to keep the bite out of his voice as he contemplated the irony of his statement. One hand unconsciously slipped under the blankets still spread over his lap, and he wondered if he dared try and relieve the ache before Duo could finish up and come out to catch him at it. With his luck, the braided baka would probably want to thank him or something by doing his laundry for him while he was cleaning up. Thoughts of trying to explain that sticky, and more importantly, fresh, mess to Duo cooled his blood quickly, or rather, transferred the heat to his cheeks again as an embarrassed flush spread from his hairline down. Heero took a deep breath and consciously withdrew his hand, resting it atop the blanket and smoothing out a wrinkle in the knitted afghan absently. After a moment, he was convinced he could stand without giving too much away, and shifted to do just that.
Only to come to a stop as he suddenly realized that his dangling feet would no longer touch the floor. What the hell? His legs had been long enough last night. What could have happened? He leaned over, holding onto the side of the chair as he contemplated the underside as best he could, finally coming to the realization that the actual bowl-shaped part of the chair that he was seated on, or rather *in*, was not connected to the base, and had obviously tipped backwards during the course of his nap. All he had to do was change his position until he could rock the chair back forward enough that he could reach the floor again, and then it would be a simple matter to extricate himself and stand up. Simple.
Duo was just applying the elastic band to the tip of his braid when a loud crash from his bedroom made him jump. He spun around the doorway, fists coming up and weight settling back into a fighting stance instinctively at the unfamiliar racket. Heero blinked up at him from the floor, the cushion and cane frame of his papasan chair teetering against his back like a turtle shell, while the afghan slipped down from his head to obscure one eye. Duo couldn't initially decide which was funnier, the thought of Heero-as-turtle, or the dumbfounded, surprised expression in the Japanese man's eyes as he peered helplessly up at Duo from the floor.
An instant later, Duo decided he didn't care *which* thought was funnier; he just burst into laughter and stepped forward to offer Heero a hand up. He had to bite his lower lip to reduce his volume to snickers as Heero accepted the help and hopped to his feet, staring down at the offending chair and bedding with an affronted scowl.
That only served to set Duo off again, and he dropped Heero's hand to retreat back to the bathroom, tears springing to his eyes as he burst into giggles. Heero Yuy, rookie firefighter extraordinaire, lusted after by swooning millionaire heiresses and hyperactive firefighters alike, constitution of a stone ox. and to date, defeated only by. a papasan chair.
"God. Next time, Heero, just shove me over and steal a corner of my bed," Duo managed between gasps for breath and choked chuckles. "It's big enough for both of us and it'd be safer... for the floor!"
It was probably a good thing that Duo didn't choose that moment to poke his head out and gloat at the other firefighter, for the poleaxed, fish-out-of-water expression on Heero's face at *that* thought probably would have killed the braided man.
Heero pushed one hand through the damp tumble of his bangs, scowling at them when they settled back into place as if he'd never touched them. With a disgusted sigh at his recalcitrant hair, he arched his shoulders forward, flexing against the slightly tighter-than-he-was-used-to confines of the t-shirt that Duo had lent him to change into after his shower. He just hoped that he didn't tear out any of the seams since he was slightly broader shouldered than Duo.
The scent of coffee filling the house brought him out of his clothing contemplation. Gathering up the neat bundle of his dirty uniform, Heero slipped out of the bathroom and headed down the hall towards the kitchen. He detoured at the living room to drop off his clothes, and then continued on to find Duo standing before his stove, hips swaying in time to the music coming from the radio tucked up under one of the cabinets near the sink. Every room in the house, it seemed, had a stereo or a radio or something to provide music. That sudden realization, combined with Duo's habit of small talk, made Heero wonder why Duo feared silence so much.
Bare toes slapping against the tile, Heero crossed over to the coffee maker, surprised to find a full mug waiting for him already. He picked it up, turning to lean his hip against the countertop to watch as Duo carefully broke another egg into the hot skillet on the stove.
"I know it's dinner time, but breakfast's a habit. When you wake up, you eat eggs and hash browns, not pot roast," Duo observed with a wry grin as he tossed the shell into the trash. He glanced at Heero quickly, violet gaze appraising the Japanese man for a moment before turning his attention back to the stove. "Told you it'd fit."
"Hn," Heero agreed quietly, taking another sip of his coffee. The dark liquid slid down his throat easily, easing some tight spot deep within him that he hadn't even realized was tense until that moment. "Good coffee," he murmured as he crossed his free arm over his chest and tucked that empty hand into the crook of his elbow.
"That's because it's *real*. Not like that off brand shit you buy and ruin whatever potential it might have had by keeping it in your cabinet," Duo snorted, tossing Heero a sardonic smirk as he carefully flipped the eggs.
"Where else would you keep it?" Heero asked, cocking his head in confusion. "And what's wrong with the cost effective brand?"
"Cost effective?" Duo echoed incredulously. "You mean cheap. As in cheap shit. Man, Heero, you get what you pay for with that crap, don't you know?" The braided driver shot him a grin to take the sting out of the rebuke, although Heero could tell by the amused quirk of Duo's brow that he'd meant every word. "And you keep it in the freezer to seal in the flavor. Buy the whole beans, and keep it in the freezer. Then you grind it right before you're going to brew it. That way it doesn't lose anything and you get perfect coffee every time."
Heero peered down into his half empty mug with a look of bafflement before shrugging at Duo and finishing up the cup with a massive gulp. He ignored it when Duo started snickering, choosing instead to get himself another cup before turning his attention back to watching the orchestrated chaos taking place on the stove.
"Like I said," Duo observed cheerfully as he started flipping food onto a pair of plates, "I'll culture you yet, Heero." A moment later, a plate laden with sausage links, crisp hash browns, buttered toast, and eggs over easy, just the way Heero liked them, was thrust into his face. Duo grinned at him before taking his own plate and bouncing off towards the table.
As he slowly settled into a seat and Duo started chattering amiably as usual, it took Heero a moment to realize that the coffee wasn't the only thing soothing him from the inside out. There was just something so right about sitting across from Duo, eating a home cooked meal that didn't originate in a Styrofoam or tin foil tray, and listening to that familiar chatter. An irreverent corner of his brain suddenly commented that he'd have to find a way to duplicate this as often as possible.
"Have you ever had a room mate?"
Silence descended over the kitchen, and when he looked up to see the fork hovering forgotten in Duo's hand halfway to his open mouth, Heero realized that he'd been the one to ask that question. Duo blinked, shoving the fork into his mouth and affecting a cheerful grin before answering.
"Why? Looking for a new place to stay?"
The question made Heero's stomach feel weird, so he covered it by shaking his head sharply. "No. No. I just wondered. You're so. gregarious. It seems weird that you live alone."
"Oh," Duo replied, a guarded look entering his violet gaze as he returned his attention to his meal. "A few, now and then," he finally answered. "They never stuck around for long. Guess I'm too big a pain in the ass to live with, huh?"
"Not really," Heero surprised himself by answering. "But you like to pretend that way."
Duo gave him another odd look before covering it with his familiar joviality. "There's an empty room down the hall, anytime you think you're up for the challenge."
"Hn. I'll think about it."
Heero had to bite his lip to hold in the grin threatening to overtake him when he glanced up and noticed the stunned expression on Duo's face. With an odd little sense of triumph, Heero turned his attention back down to his plate, and the rest of their meal was accomplished in silence.
By the time they finished eating, cleaned up the kitchen, and Duo found Heero a pair of socks and shoes that would fit him long enough to get the Japanese man home to get a pair of his own, they decided it was late enough to head out. By Duo's reckoning, if they went to pick up Heero's truck from the station, took it back to his apartment where he could change into a comfortable pair of shoes, and then headed out to Jake's, they'd just beat the evening rush so they could grab a table. Zechs, Wufei, Trowa, and Quatre would either be there shortly afterwards, or might even beat them there. Provided any of the others had actually woken up yet. They'd all had just as busy a day as Heero and Duo had. But Jake's had always been their little tradition, one that Heero had apparently grudgingly allowed himself to be dragged into.
Heero slid onto the big Harley behind Duo, tucking the sacked bundle of his work clothing tight against his body as he settled his hands onto Duo's sides to keep his balance. Behind them, the garage door clacked shut, Duo pausing just long enough to tuck the remote into the saddle bag under Heero's left leg, before gunning the throttle and bursting onto the street with the growling rumble of highly tuned steel. When they finally reached the station and Heero slid off the back of the bike, it felt odd. It wasn't until Duo sauntered through his unlocked apartment door as Heero was pulling on his own shoes that the oddness wore off. Then he was too busy sighing in frustration as Duo proceeded to parade around his meager abode, joking about his training manuals, technical journals, and EMS magazines littering almost every available counter and table space to worry about any sense of 'right' or 'odd'.
"Damn it, Maxwell," he snarled as he chased the braided man out the door and locked it behind them, "One of these days that big mouth of yours is going to get you into trouble."
"Better men than you have promised that, Yuy, and I'm still here," Duo taunted back, vanishing through the doorway to the stairwell.
As the heavy fire door slammed shut with a bang, Heero shook his head and sighed. "And he thinks *I'm* the challenge."
A hand waved from a table near the dart machines, grabbing their attention as they slipped through the front door of Jake's together. They'd had to park Duo's bike a little bit further down the sidewalk than they usually did, since there were already a couple of other motorcycles in their normal spot by the time they'd arrived at the bar some time later. Figuring that one of the two of them would probably overindulge, Heero opted to leave his motorcycle at home and simply hitch a ride with Duo, so they'd have one less thing to worry about when it came time to leave. Trowa nodded congenially at them as they slid onto empty stools at the table, and grabbed a couple of bottles from the full bucket waiting for them.
"Hey Tro. Good thing you beat us here. Looks like it's gonna be a busy night tonight," Duo observed, twisting off the cap of his beer as he eyed the crowd already gathered. It was still pretty early, and already the bar was almost full of college kids. "Where's Quatre? You could just about lose him with all these hulking kids hanging around."
"He's still on his way. I had to check on Cathy, so he stayed home while I dealt with her. Said he'd be along later," Trowa replied, waving down the waitress to bring them another bucket. By the time she managed to make it back through the crowd with his order, they should be just about finished with the one they were working on now.
A few minutes later, as Duo was attempting to bait him into challenging him to a game of darts for the next round of beer, a flash of platinum at the door caught Heero's attention. With a quick wave of his hand, he beckoned Zechs and Wufei over, and then fished a five out of his pocket. As the Arson investigator and Captain slid into two of the last three stools around the table, Heero tossed the five at Duo, who crowed with triumph and dashed off to the bar to get dollar bills and quarters for the juke box and the dart machine. Wufei spared a conspiratory grin for Heero as the braided driver vanished into the crowd.
"That should keep him occupied for all of three minutes," Wufei said over the buzz of the crowd.
"Three *blissful* minutes," Heero replied with a mock sigh of relief. Everyone chuckled.
Two minutes and fifty-three seconds later, Duo reappeared beside the table, shoving two dollars in Heero's hand before vanishing again in the direction of the juke box. Heero shook his head and then dutifully headed over to the machine and started up the game. By the time he'd gotten the correct game version selected, fed in all the money, and handed out the darts to Zechs and Wufei, loud strains of heavy metal music started blaring from the speakers. Duo popped up beside Heero a few moments later, snatching the last unclaimed set of darts from the Japanese man's hand.
Wufei won the first game, a variation called Cricket, where the object was to hit a selection of certain targets three times each before your opponents did. If they managed to hit either 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, or the Bull's-eye three times before you did, then each time after their third that they hit those targets they would score that many points. The person who managed to hit all of their targets three times each first, was the winner. Of course, the person who scored the most points by the end of the game could also claim to be the winner as well. As far as Duo was concerned, the only spot that mattered was the one who finished last, since that person had to buy the next round. And at eight dollars for a bucket of six bottles of beer, being the loser too often could get very expensive, very quickly.
Much to his chagrin, Heero lost the first game. He proceeded to make it up by winning, or at least coming in second, for the next three games in a row, which is when Quatre showed up and was forced to buy that round by default.
Six buckets later, a lot of the college crowd had cleared out, opting to head off to bars that stayed open later to finish up their drinking. Duo stared wistfully after Quatre who was dragging an unresisting Trowa off towards the bathroom, while Zechs and Wufei murmured quietly to each other, their heads close enough to just barely touch as they nursed what they claimed would be their final round of beer. Behind him, Heero practiced darts, not even bothering to keep score anymore as he simply tried to perfect his throw and still hit what he was aiming for, despite the fuzzy warmth filling him from the inside out.
Duo tore his gaze away from the doorway the other two vanished through, and turned in his seat, watching the frown of concentration on Heero's face.
"Your elbow's too high," Duo observed quietly, grinning with satisfaction as Heero tucked the opposing limb back down a little, and then tossed the dart for a perfect Bull's-eye.
"Arigato."
"No prob."
After watching Heero throw a few more rounds, Duo was snapped out of his silent contemplation by the soft clearing of a throat behind him. He turned, frowning a little at the secretive smirk hovering around Wufei's mouth before turning his attention to Zechs.
"It's late," the Captain said, "And if we stay too much longer, none of us will be in any shape to drive. We're going home."
"Which means you should, too, Maxwell. Before you're too drunk to walk, and Heero has to baby-sit your ass," Wufei added. "Again."
Rather than arguing, Duo simply grinned and flipped the investigator a one fingered salute before nodding in agreement. "I was actually thinking the same thing. I figured I'd wait around to make sure the lovebirds made it out of the bathroom alive, and got headed home too before I bailed. Does that meet with your approval, mother?" he asked sweetly, batting his eyes at Wufei and blowing him a kiss.
Wufei offered Heero a long suffering sigh before standing and shrugging on his jacket. "Either he's had too much, or not enough. I haven't decided which yet."
Heero tossed the last dart, turning to study Duo for a long moment. "Not enough. He passes out when he's had just enough," he offered at length.
Wufei snickered as Duo adopted an affronted expression. Before the braided man had a chance to launch into a dissertation on Heero's manners, Trowa and a slightly flushed Quatre reappeared and started shrugging on their jackets.
"I'm guessing it's time to call it a night?" Quatre observed with a grin, leaning heavily against Trowa out of habit.
"Maybe more so for some than for others," Duo replied with a grin for the support Trowa was giving the shorter paramedic.
Straightening to his full height, Quatre turned to face Duo full on, and then proceeded to flawlessly recite the alphabet backwards. As he finished with "A", he crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Duo challengingly before silently demanding Duo's keys with a single outstretched hand. After retrieving the prize from an unrepentant Duo, Quatre tossed them to Heero, adding, "Make sure he gets home in one piece, okay?"
Heero nodded obediently, watching as the two paramedics said their farewells and followed Zechs and Wufei out the door before tossing Duo's keys back to him, knowing that he wasn't nearly as intoxicated as he was pretending to be.
Grinning conspiratorially, Duo shrugged on his own jacket and followed in Heero's wake outside to the big black Harley that was by now sitting alone on the sidewalk.
"They don't know you as well as they think they do," Heero observed as he settled onto the bike behind Duo.
"Nah. Quatre just likes to worry. And for the record. he can only do that alphabet thing that well when he *is* drunk. Ask him to do it at work day after tomorrow, and he'll stutter like a school girl at an idol band concert," Duo replied, starting up the big bike with a low coughing rumble.
Heero shook his head and indulged in a chuckle, tightening his grip as Duo gunned the throttle and took off with a squeal of rubber on pavement. He must have been a little bit further gone on the alcohol than he'd thought, because it seemed like no time at all before Duo shut the engine down and rocked the motorcycle back onto its kickstand beside Wing in the parking garage of Heero's apartment building. Duo seemed to agree, for he refused to let Heero head up to his apartment without an escort, explaining that he was afraid the Japanese firefighter would pass out on the stairs or in the elevator before he was halfway there. Realizing that winning that fight was simply more trouble than it was worth, Heero finally agreed with a frustrated sigh, and allowed Duo to trail along behind him the whole way up. Perversely, he opted to take the stairs, just to prove he was better off than Duo thought.
Of course, the stairs gave Duo ample opportunity to stare at his ass with impunity. Maybe that was why as Heero turned to thank Duo for the ride home, the braided man suddenly leaned forward and brushed his lips over Heero's.
The shock of it stunned Heero into immobility, leaving him open for Duo to repeat the action, only more firmly the second time, one hand reaching up to cup Heero's cheek in his palm. That woke Heero from his paralysis, startling him into backing up, one hand on his door, the other resting against the warm place on his cheek that Duo had just touched. Dazed violet eyes blinked open to slowly focus on his own, a dawning look of shock and. fear awakening in the amethyst depths.
The fear, like Duo's touch, galvanized him into action, and before either of them could say a word, the door swung shut with a frighteningly final slam.
~TBC~
RavynFyre
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