The Accent
The old professor sat on the bench in the park. He was feeding the ducks in the pond and listening to the heated conversation of the two boys sitting nearby. When the Japanese one stood up and with a "Sit tight!" order (enforced with a glare) left his braided companion, the Englishman gave in to his curiosity, stood up and went over to him.
"My dear boy, your accent intrigues me," he said. "May I ask where you come from? Eastern Europe? Maybe Russia?"
The boy blinked at him owlishly with tired, red-rimmed eyes. "Daz notten assent. Daza cold!"
The professor sweatdropped.
The Cute, Fluffy... Evil Little Things >.<
Did you know that Quatre wears slippers? They are cute and fluffy. Neon pink bunnies, yep, that�s what they look like. He looks really cute in them. Did I mention that they are cute?
He leaves them next to the bed. My side of the bed. It�s closer to the bathroom and it�s more convenient for him. He just hops on the bed, kicks them off and climbs over to his side. Then we snuggle together and sleep with contented smiles on our faces.
And in the morning, when I�m getting up, I trip over them. Every day.
Evil little things!
The Dinner
"I�m ho�"
When Heero entered the kitchen, his jaw hit the floor. Flour, broken eggs and something green were everywhere. And among this mess, an even messier Duo sat on the floor, crying like the end of the world was coming.
"Duo? What�s wrong?"
Violet eyes looked at him. "Made you dinner."
Heero made his way to the bubbling pot, determined to praise it even if it would kill him. He took a spoon and carefully tasted the unidentified mass. "Great chicken," he said after chewing thoroughly.
Duo started to wail again. "It was supposed to be macaroni and cheese!"
Heero sweatdropped.
The Duel
Eyes meet, heated glances are exchanged, steel clashes on steel. Two duelists in a fight for everything. Attack, jump to the side, attack again. Sweat running down their naked chests. Then in a flash, one sword goes flying through the air, hitting the ground with a metal clang. The duelist is disarmed. He falls to his knees, panting wildly, the tip of his opponent�s sword touching his neck.
A glare meets an amused smirk. The Dragon is defeated.
"It�s up to you to wash the dishes today, Dragon," the winner with the forked eyebrows says, triumph coloring his voice.
"Injustice."
The Good Samaritan
"You didn�t need to come with me, Heero," Duo said, his hand on the handle of the church door.
"Oh yes, I did."
"Why?"
"To protect the innocent," Heero stated gravely.
"Huh?"
Half an hour later.
"Halleluuuuuuuuuuuuuuujah, Halleluuuuuuuuuuuuujah," the song echoed through the church.
An old lady sitting next to Heero gave the Japanese man an odd look, and he followed her gaze to where his hand was clamped over Duo�s pouting mouth. The braided young man was giving Heero a sullen look.
Heero smiled warmly at the woman. "Trust me, ma'am, you don�t want to hear him sing."
The Last of the Mohicans
*swat swat swat*
*swat swat swat*
*SWAT SWAT SWAT*
Heero swore. What was the baka doing now?
He entered the kitchen and blinked, seeing Duo jump around, a flyswatter in his hand, waving it around like the Indians did their tomahawks, doing the *swat swat swat* thing again.
"Duo? What should this Old West imitation mean?" At the same moment, a fly zipped around Heero, and through the open door into the living room.
Duo gave out a war cry and followed it, almost knocking his lover to the ground.
Heero rolled his eyes. Duo Maxwell, the Last of the Mohicans.
The Shower-Horror
When Heero heard the water start in the shower, he groaned silently, then he clenched his teeth. Any moment now. Yes.
The screeching sound started. It was like nails on a blackboard, or stepping on a cat's tail. Heero felt the hair stand up on his neck and his arms. He cringed and gritted his teeth. Finally, when tears gathered in his eyes, he couldn�t take it anymore. He got up from the couch and stormed into the little bathroom.
His face contorted in fury, he yelled: "Duo! Stop singing or I swear I will gag you!"
What?!
Duo blinked, then squinted. He moved the box closer to his eyes, then away again. He scratched his head, then shrugged and read aloud: "No cockring needed."
Heero, standing just two feet away, his basket full of groceries, almost choked hearing him say such a thing out loud in the middle of a busy market. "What?!"
"Well, this says that." Duo waved with the box.
"Gimme that!" Heero grabbed the box, looked at the small text, then read it aloud too: "No cooking needed!"
Duo meeped, blushing.
Heero glared at him. "I swear, Duo, if you don�t start wearing your glasses...."
What a Tragedy
"... and then he.... and she was.... and." Duo sobbed, curled up on the couch, head pressed into the well-muscled chest of his lover.
Heero laid one arm around Duo�s shaking shoulders and handed him a handkerchief. He sighed as more tears came, wetting the front of his shirt. It was the same, every time.
The braided man blew his nose loudly, looking at Heero with red, swollen eyes, blinking owlishly. "That was so saaaaaaa~ad," he started to wail again, hiding his face against the wet shirt.
Heero rolled his eyes. "We are never EVER watching Bambi again!"
What a Tragedy II
"... how could they... and then he. so unfa-fair," Quatre sobbed, sitting curled on Trowa�s lap. The blonde blew his nose and dropped the tissue on the ground with the rest. He then reached for another one, but finding the tissue box empty, he started to wail again, hiding his face against his lover�s neck.
Trowa sighed and rolled his eyes, an expression of long suffering settling on his face. Rubbing Quatre�s back in a vain attempt to calm his crying lover down, he made a decision:
Heero will pay for sending them the Bambi tape!
What a Tragedy III
"... impossible. If you take the angle of the gun and the distance, they couldn�t have killed the animal like that. There would have to be much more blood. And the fire... no fire can spread that quickly without someone spilling a lot of kerosene all over the place. What a lame case of arson. And when you consider..."
Treize crossed his arms over his chest and with raised eyebrows, he stared at his ranting Chinese lover, who was sitting on the couch next to him. He had the feeling that Wufei kind of missed what Bambi was actually about.
Where Are They?
Heero had been watching his lover run around like a headless chicken for the past couple of minutes without making any comment. But now that Duo showed every intention of invading his working space, he asked: "What are you looking for?"
"My glasses!" Duo shouted, exasperated.
Heero looked at him oddly, but seeing that Duo was completely serious, he beckoned him over.
Duo narrowed his eyes suspiciously but came closer anyway. Heero straightened, took the glasses that had been sitting on top of Duo�s head all the time and set them down on his freckled nose. "There."
Duo sweatdropped.
Whirlwind
A loud scream and a thump as if something heavy hit the floor echoed through the apartment. With a low "huh?", Heero looked up from his morning newspaper and cup of coffee to see his lover hop barefoot into the kitchen on one leg, while trying to stuff the other into his jeans, shirt hanging open, hair loose, a hair tie in his mouth.
"Heeho, hy hahn�t u hake he hup? Une his goin� hu khill me if I com� thoo late ag�n!"
Heero blinked, watching the fussy whirlwind that was his partner run wild around the small kitchen. "Duo? It�s Saturday," he stated the - at least to him - obvious fact.
With a "d'oh!" the whirlwind became a twitching heap on the floor.
Yummy!
Duo held Heero�s eyes as he took it into his mouth. He licked at the hard red surface, swirling his tongue around its sweetness, then moved up and down its length. With a satisfied smile, he noticed Heero groan deeply in his throat. The Japanese boy�s eyes grew dark with desire as he licked his suddenly dry lips.
"Mr. Maxwell!" The shrill sound of their teacher�s screeching voice broke through the haze of excitement they shared. "Lollipops do not belong in school!"
Zombie
A strange creature is creeping around, shoulders hunched, arms outstretched, steps heavy and swaying. It�s coming closer and closer, following the scent right to me.
There�
It�s in sight, hands seeking blindly. "Coffee," it rasps.
I hand over the mug I was keeping hostage and smile. Yep, Duo is not a morning person.
