Torment of the Inner Duo- Part One

Pairing: 1x2
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Romance, Humor
Prompt: AU first meeting

*In which Duo finds him motivation to quit*

"Maxwell! Hurry up and take your break already! You've got deliveries to make!"

Duo Maxwell scowled in the direction of the resounding voice, just barely resisting the urge to flash his slave-driver boss the finger. Instead, he irritably cursed under his breath, purposely letting the heavy back door to the restaurant close with a defined bang that echoed as he stepped into the alleyway.

Heaving a frustrated sigh, he leaned against the brick wall, letting his head fall back against the rough surface as he produced a cigarette from above his ear, placing it between his lips as he rummaged through his pockets for a light. His face darkened as his search proved to be fruitless, swearing viciously under his breath until suddenly he found his vision full of the translucent red of a cheap Zippo lighter, attached to a slender, nut-brown hand whose artful fingers expertly produced a flame.

Speechless, Duo mutely lowered his head to accept the light, only daring to raise his gaze after a thin stream of smoke was produced, finding himself staring into the most gorgeous pair of eyes he had ever seen.

Ready…aim…fire…I'm sunk.

Said eyes were a beautiful, soulful Prussian blue, the kind that could make one weak in the knees as cliché as it sounded, just by the pure power of the emotional intensity radiating from them. Said eyes belonged to the most gorgeous face Duo had ever seen, beautiful in a bad-boy, roguish kind of way, though marked by a severity and self-control that seemed softened by a light smile curling firm, sensual lips and the teasing light in those breathtaking eyes.

Just imagine if that focus and control was directed toward something else…like something involving one naked him, one naked you, and a bed.

Unfortunately for all of us, there are the metaphorical inner demons and angels that exist in every individual, often referred to as the yin and yang, or the super-ego and the id. And the darker side of each spectrum is the one who lives on impulse, the feral and primitive part of each of us. In Duo's case, much to his misery, his inner devil just happened to be a randy little bugger.

Duo swallowed hard and he licked dry lips, taking an impulsive drag of the cigarette. Perhaps it was just his imagination running away with him, but he could have sworn those amazing eyes followed every movement of lips and tongue, and darkening with- heaven help him- something akin to interest.

"Thanks," he murmured, shocked he could even manage to audibly articulate a single word.

"No problem." The other man mimicked him, leaning back against the wall as he lazily puffed at the half-finished smoke in his own hand. Duo watched him out of the corner of his eye, taking in the sight of dark jeans and a forest green tee that clung tight enough the accent the very generous definitions to the man's body, and the apron slung loosely from slender hips.

Hear the heavens' ring, guaranteed to come, a walking wet dream.

Duo winced at the sudden perverted trail of this thoughts and he forced himself to focus on the man's face, where he saw, much to his embarrassment, a trace of amusement. He cleared his throat, looking away awkwardly. "So…you work here?"

"Yeah. I'm a cook. You?"

"Delivery boy."

"You new? I haven't seen you around before."

"Yeah, just started."

The blue-eyed man chuckled, a rich, low sound of mirth Duo found himself falling instantly in love with. "I heard Johnson giving you a hard time in there. I can promise you all the managers aren't that bad. Barton's planning to fire his ass soon anyway."

Duo grinned. "Good riddance. Barton, he's the head honcho, right?"

"Sort of. Trowa's the proprietor, and joint owner. He's got a partner behind the scenes who took care of a lot of the initial financial stuff."

Duo nodded, suddenly recalling the tall auburn-haired man who had popped his head in at his interview. He remembered quiet authority but amity in incredibly green eyes, auburn hair, a nice face, and an innate feline grace as the man moved away. Trowa Barton.

The other man took a long, final drag of his cigarette, tossing it to the ground and stamping it out with the toe of his boot, much to Duo's disappointment, quickly dispersed when the man lingered, looking up at him wryly. "You know, my wife's always telling to quit this stuff. Maybe it's time I listened."

This time, there was nothing Duo could do to quell the sharp stab of disappointment to welled up inside.

He was not sure how much of that disappointment showed in his face, for the man lingered still, seemingly searching his expression for something. He must have found what he was looking for, for his gaze found Duo's, blue eyes dancing with mischief and lips showing the slightest hint of a smile. Duo found himself utterly befuddled.

"Just kidding," the other man told him airily, "Actually it's a friend of mine that's always saying that, but he's such a mother hen, it's become a joke among us that he's like a nagging wife."

"And you know," he continued, and Duo felt himself relax and tense all at the same time, "I heard somewhere that kissing a smoker's like kissing an ashtray, so just imagine what two smokers would be like."

He fumbled with something in his pocket, and then pulled it out, tossing it to Duo, still flashing that teasing little grin. "Give me a ring if you change your mind about those cancer sticks."

With a final wink, the mystery man with the teasing smile and the blue eyes disappeared back into the kitchens. Duo's jaw unhinged, and he looked numbly down into the item in his palm. The man's lighter, wrapped inside a napkin covered in curvaceous, masculine script…a name and a phone number.

Heero Yuy…the name slipped off his tongue like honey, sweet and sultry as the man himself. Grinning to himself, Duo pocketed the napkin and tossed the lighter into the nearby dumpster. Maybe he did have motivation to quit.