Title: Fake Horns and Plastic Halos
Warnings: 1x2, yaoi, weird-ness, lemon in later chapters, possible Relena bashing, we'll see how the story goes.
Disclaimer: I. Owning. Not. GW. *Sniffle*
SI: Well, since I absolutely LOVED writing Dear Journal…here's something similar. Similar, meaning, the same weird humor and drool-able material …kinda.=P
Kame: Oh boy…we're in for it now…
Shinigami: I need a vacation -.-"
SI: Oi! ¬¬
Heero woke to the highly annoying sound of some form of gargling, or possibly three or more people being viciously strangled by a piano cord, and were attempting to scream in outmost terror. That, or someone had dropped a huge tarantula in the middle of one of Relenas girls sorority meetings in her private school, with all its members having a very advanced form of throat cancer. The point? It was a nasty, unpleasant, and very sickening sound one does not want to be awoken to. One that accompanied the coming of morning with two minutes of horror; enough to drive anyone insane.
Duo had woken up early.
Now there was nothing wrong with that, quite the opposite. It was a relief that you didn't have to sit on him and whack him in the face with a pillow or two until he regained some precious consciousness with often didn't last longer than two minutes. Once Heero had even had to resort to extremes by using the enemy of all sleeping entities: Ice.
It was his –friend- for a few days after that incident, because a sever blow from Duo's part hit him in the eye. That was when he got it confirmed that purple, especially looking like excessive mascara and accompanied by numbing pain, was not his piece of cake.
As abruptly as it had started, the gargling (or whatever it would be classified as) stopped tormenting his ears and the bathroom door set in the wall parallel to his bed about five meters away was flung open. A bright eyed and by the looks of it, newly showered Duo, towel wrapped around his waist, waved cheerfully at Heero, who was draped sloppily across the bed. A malicious grin followed as the scantily clad boy proceeded to drag an old battered suitcase from the foot of his bed, to its top, a process, which didn't go very well and resulted in him giving up after a few seconds. He always took the presence of the bag for granted. Little did he know that Heero dragged it into every new accommodation they were sent to.
Wet strands of glistening brown hair was plastered to his skin; now and then crystal clear drops of water would sliver their way down the crevices and curves of his skin. The movement of bending down gave visually pleasing result as the minute piece of cloth known as a towel rode up to expose his slender thighs. Muscles shifted as he rested his weight on one leg, and his hair cascaded in tendrils to one side, presenting his slim white neck into clear view.
The curvaceous figure suddenly made the word 'picturesque' seem a very feeble and unsatisfactory adjective. Heero, from where he was peering out between his hair from where his head was buried in the pillow, felt much repaid for some strange reason unknown to mankind and robots alike.
"Mornin' buddy," The 'picturesque' Duo said cheerfully from piles of black, black, and more back strewn around the floor. It was a hard choice to make, had he not had extensive experience in finding clothes in a mass of black…and the occasional red that just happened to have made it's way into his bag.
Heero grunted some monotonous form of reply while trying to figure out why in the nine hells Duo was up early. The only thing that could have him up early was waffles, or the first days of new schools. He liked to make a good impression that kept him pretty much in good standing with both students and teachers for the rest of the time he spent there. A clever strategy. A lot of his neglected grades were heartily excused, and detentions were very rare. He did learn everything that was said and taught with great ease, to such a point where he deemed it useless to go through with tests and assignments. Hence, the need to get on the good side of all involved in academic work.
"'aight, I know you're tired and all, but you need to help me here," Duo said, rising to scratch his head slightly while staring down at the mess which was his bag. Heero raised his head an inch or so above the pillow, blinking some excess sleep out of his eyes and trying to look unappreciating of Duo talking to him. He should have achieved an award for the face he pulled.
"With?" He snapped as best he could, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. Duo held up his hands and offered a would-be apologetic smile, which turned out more as a mocking grin.
"Not that you would actually know, but have you seen my pa-" He was interrupted as bare arm shot up and pointed at the item of black clothing that had been slung across the drawers in the corner.
"-pants…" Duo finished, raising an eyebrow at Heero. Sometimes his super- enhanced memory was a bit too scary. Him knowing irrelevant things like the location of Duo's pants was even scarier. He shuffled over to the drawer, keeping a suspicious eye on Heero, and dropping the towel as if he did it all the time.
Huston, we have full frontal nudity.
Heero had a tough time not staring, but through devious scheming managed to inconspicuously stare until his eyes bugged out between some of his hair and a well-placed piece of his blanket.
"Have you gotten our…scheme thingies yet?" Duo asked, not caring if he got an answer or not, looking around listlessly for a pair of boxers. He looked to Heero for an answer as to where they'd be, and found that he was no longer looking. Or so it appeared.
"Oi! Heero! Boxers, me, I need, got any ideas? I'm not going to classes nude, I don't think the rest of the school would appreciate it much," He clarified himself, hands on his bare hips. He cocked his head to the side and smiled amusedly at the limp figure of Heero collapsed amongst the sheets. His thick black eyelashes tickled his cheeks with every slow blink he took. Curious how time slows when your doing nothing but staring and letting the image carry your thoughts and imagination to new heights.
"I don't know where they are," Heero mumbled quietly, managing to tear his gaze from Duo's lower extremity and staring blankly into the pillow. He reminded himself over and over that nudity was not something that registered with him. It was too distracting. He was supposed to be indifferent. And when did Duo decide it was ok to strip in front of him anyway? Sure, he'd always been…somewhat distracted, by Duo…but Duo was stretching the limits now! Yes indeed. He was crossing the line of justice. Then again, Duo had never been restricted to what he could and couldn't do in Heeros presence. And his line of justice probably shifted constantly or didn't exist at all. Heero mentally guessed that Duo's line of justice, was very ambiguous, and hidden beneath a whole lot of other lines. Almost all of which he seemed to ignore.
And Heero was not supposed to be attracted to Duo's currently nude state, much less his clothed state, at any rate. Can we say…nature is being a cruel bitch?
Duo smirked at him, turning around to rummage around for some suitable boxers. Heero couldn't ignore the luxurious curve of the ass that was turning his way, a beautiful pale golden tone that Heero had no idea how he managed to obtain.
"Aha!" Duo exclaimed, dragging a pair of black – what else would they be? – boxers out from their hiding place beneath Heero's bed. He gave Heero an accusing look while twirling the clothing around his finger. If it hadn't been for the situation, it would have appeared very comical. A nude vision of perfection spinning boxers around his finger as if they were a lasso is hard to deem boring.
"You gladly point out my pants, but my boxers you prefer to hide?" Duo teased cruelly, still refraining from actually putting on the garment. Heero was determined to stare at some interesting piece of fluff that was located on his pillow. The fluff, was the only thing that was allowed to occupy his mind. Only, fluff. Nothing but, the fluff.
Duo placed his hands on his hips and shook his head with a soft sigh, bending down to drag the boxers on. Meanwhile, Heero had become very involved with the mysteries and science of the fluff on his pillow. He somehow got the feeling he'd be an expert on the subject pretty soon.
"Back in a sec., 'kay pal?" Duo grabbed a random pile of black and padded across the carpeted floor back to the bathroom. The door closed with a soft click.
And Heero let out a very long sigh to release the air his lungs had accumulated. In some way, Duo WOULD pay for that. Heero had a strong notion that Duo had absolutely no idea of the addictive-ness of his drug self, and how it affected his system. Wrong thought, wrong thought. Very very wrong. When you are of the male sex of the species, you do not stare and feel attracted to the same gender as yourself. It's not NORMAL.
Well…that was at least what coursed through Heero's mind in a boringly repetitive sequence, much like a tape for 'Learn to speak French' or similar.
Heero didn't know whether to place Duo on the 'pleasure' or 'pain' side of the almighty justice line. He was teetering dangerously close to the 'pleasure' side though; no matter how hard he tried to will himself to regard Duo as a nuisance. Not even his well-trained mind was capable of it, which dismayed him greatly.
And then something occurred, which would send a normal human being into spasm of panic.
The laws of Newton, Boyle, and all other scientific masterminds, were broken fit to give a life sentence complete with a daily trip to an old fashioned electric chair for reinforced punishment.
"Showing yourself to a weakling, is very uncharacteristic of you, Yuy." A little voice on the shoulder exposed to air hissed quietly, in a tone very much like his own, except in a way it was…slightly chibified.
"I'm not showing myself as a weakling, voice." He replied in a growl, not paying attention to much else but convincing himself of his theories on fluff being more interesting than Duo by a mile. Fluff was fluffy, and full of fluff, and could change shape, it could be found on pillows, could be just about any color, and…
'Voice'?
Even Heero Yuy couldn't be prevented from landing with an audible thud on the floor, tangled up in his covers, which were intertwined across his body and over his head in some strange and almost impossible way. And after getting himself out of the shock of landing on the hard floor there was still one little detail that had to be sorted out…
Voice!? Stop and REWIND!
Ripping the sheets from where they were entangled, splitting a few seams of fabric, Heero stared up at the origin of the vocals in disbelief. He could have sworn he heard a voice, and it sounded a bit too much like…
His eyes locked on to the relatively small target.
And it took every ounce, every tiny miniscule portion of Perfect Soldier content he'd ever contained, not, to scream.
TBC
A/N: So whatcha think? ^^; I like writing…weird fics. Yessums, that I do. And I have a feeling this one will be …high up on the humor scale =P At least for my standards! Review, puh-leeeeease ^^
Warnings: 1x2, yaoi, weird-ness, lemon in later chapters, possible Relena bashing, we'll see how the story goes.
Disclaimer: I. Owning. Not. GW. *Sniffle*
SI: Well, since I absolutely LOVED writing Dear Journal…here's something similar. Similar, meaning, the same weird humor and drool-able material …kinda.=P
Kame: Oh boy…we're in for it now…
Shinigami: I need a vacation -.-"
SI: Oi! ¬¬
Heero woke to the highly annoying sound of some form of gargling, or possibly three or more people being viciously strangled by a piano cord, and were attempting to scream in outmost terror. That, or someone had dropped a huge tarantula in the middle of one of Relenas girls sorority meetings in her private school, with all its members having a very advanced form of throat cancer. The point? It was a nasty, unpleasant, and very sickening sound one does not want to be awoken to. One that accompanied the coming of morning with two minutes of horror; enough to drive anyone insane.
Duo had woken up early.
Now there was nothing wrong with that, quite the opposite. It was a relief that you didn't have to sit on him and whack him in the face with a pillow or two until he regained some precious consciousness with often didn't last longer than two minutes. Once Heero had even had to resort to extremes by using the enemy of all sleeping entities: Ice.
It was his –friend- for a few days after that incident, because a sever blow from Duo's part hit him in the eye. That was when he got it confirmed that purple, especially looking like excessive mascara and accompanied by numbing pain, was not his piece of cake.
As abruptly as it had started, the gargling (or whatever it would be classified as) stopped tormenting his ears and the bathroom door set in the wall parallel to his bed about five meters away was flung open. A bright eyed and by the looks of it, newly showered Duo, towel wrapped around his waist, waved cheerfully at Heero, who was draped sloppily across the bed. A malicious grin followed as the scantily clad boy proceeded to drag an old battered suitcase from the foot of his bed, to its top, a process, which didn't go very well and resulted in him giving up after a few seconds. He always took the presence of the bag for granted. Little did he know that Heero dragged it into every new accommodation they were sent to.
Wet strands of glistening brown hair was plastered to his skin; now and then crystal clear drops of water would sliver their way down the crevices and curves of his skin. The movement of bending down gave visually pleasing result as the minute piece of cloth known as a towel rode up to expose his slender thighs. Muscles shifted as he rested his weight on one leg, and his hair cascaded in tendrils to one side, presenting his slim white neck into clear view.
The curvaceous figure suddenly made the word 'picturesque' seem a very feeble and unsatisfactory adjective. Heero, from where he was peering out between his hair from where his head was buried in the pillow, felt much repaid for some strange reason unknown to mankind and robots alike.
"Mornin' buddy," The 'picturesque' Duo said cheerfully from piles of black, black, and more back strewn around the floor. It was a hard choice to make, had he not had extensive experience in finding clothes in a mass of black…and the occasional red that just happened to have made it's way into his bag.
Heero grunted some monotonous form of reply while trying to figure out why in the nine hells Duo was up early. The only thing that could have him up early was waffles, or the first days of new schools. He liked to make a good impression that kept him pretty much in good standing with both students and teachers for the rest of the time he spent there. A clever strategy. A lot of his neglected grades were heartily excused, and detentions were very rare. He did learn everything that was said and taught with great ease, to such a point where he deemed it useless to go through with tests and assignments. Hence, the need to get on the good side of all involved in academic work.
"'aight, I know you're tired and all, but you need to help me here," Duo said, rising to scratch his head slightly while staring down at the mess which was his bag. Heero raised his head an inch or so above the pillow, blinking some excess sleep out of his eyes and trying to look unappreciating of Duo talking to him. He should have achieved an award for the face he pulled.
"With?" He snapped as best he could, furrowing his eyebrows slightly. Duo held up his hands and offered a would-be apologetic smile, which turned out more as a mocking grin.
"Not that you would actually know, but have you seen my pa-" He was interrupted as bare arm shot up and pointed at the item of black clothing that had been slung across the drawers in the corner.
"-pants…" Duo finished, raising an eyebrow at Heero. Sometimes his super- enhanced memory was a bit too scary. Him knowing irrelevant things like the location of Duo's pants was even scarier. He shuffled over to the drawer, keeping a suspicious eye on Heero, and dropping the towel as if he did it all the time.
Huston, we have full frontal nudity.
Heero had a tough time not staring, but through devious scheming managed to inconspicuously stare until his eyes bugged out between some of his hair and a well-placed piece of his blanket.
"Have you gotten our…scheme thingies yet?" Duo asked, not caring if he got an answer or not, looking around listlessly for a pair of boxers. He looked to Heero for an answer as to where they'd be, and found that he was no longer looking. Or so it appeared.
"Oi! Heero! Boxers, me, I need, got any ideas? I'm not going to classes nude, I don't think the rest of the school would appreciate it much," He clarified himself, hands on his bare hips. He cocked his head to the side and smiled amusedly at the limp figure of Heero collapsed amongst the sheets. His thick black eyelashes tickled his cheeks with every slow blink he took. Curious how time slows when your doing nothing but staring and letting the image carry your thoughts and imagination to new heights.
"I don't know where they are," Heero mumbled quietly, managing to tear his gaze from Duo's lower extremity and staring blankly into the pillow. He reminded himself over and over that nudity was not something that registered with him. It was too distracting. He was supposed to be indifferent. And when did Duo decide it was ok to strip in front of him anyway? Sure, he'd always been…somewhat distracted, by Duo…but Duo was stretching the limits now! Yes indeed. He was crossing the line of justice. Then again, Duo had never been restricted to what he could and couldn't do in Heeros presence. And his line of justice probably shifted constantly or didn't exist at all. Heero mentally guessed that Duo's line of justice, was very ambiguous, and hidden beneath a whole lot of other lines. Almost all of which he seemed to ignore.
And Heero was not supposed to be attracted to Duo's currently nude state, much less his clothed state, at any rate. Can we say…nature is being a cruel bitch?
Duo smirked at him, turning around to rummage around for some suitable boxers. Heero couldn't ignore the luxurious curve of the ass that was turning his way, a beautiful pale golden tone that Heero had no idea how he managed to obtain.
"Aha!" Duo exclaimed, dragging a pair of black – what else would they be? – boxers out from their hiding place beneath Heero's bed. He gave Heero an accusing look while twirling the clothing around his finger. If it hadn't been for the situation, it would have appeared very comical. A nude vision of perfection spinning boxers around his finger as if they were a lasso is hard to deem boring.
"You gladly point out my pants, but my boxers you prefer to hide?" Duo teased cruelly, still refraining from actually putting on the garment. Heero was determined to stare at some interesting piece of fluff that was located on his pillow. The fluff, was the only thing that was allowed to occupy his mind. Only, fluff. Nothing but, the fluff.
Duo placed his hands on his hips and shook his head with a soft sigh, bending down to drag the boxers on. Meanwhile, Heero had become very involved with the mysteries and science of the fluff on his pillow. He somehow got the feeling he'd be an expert on the subject pretty soon.
"Back in a sec., 'kay pal?" Duo grabbed a random pile of black and padded across the carpeted floor back to the bathroom. The door closed with a soft click.
And Heero let out a very long sigh to release the air his lungs had accumulated. In some way, Duo WOULD pay for that. Heero had a strong notion that Duo had absolutely no idea of the addictive-ness of his drug self, and how it affected his system. Wrong thought, wrong thought. Very very wrong. When you are of the male sex of the species, you do not stare and feel attracted to the same gender as yourself. It's not NORMAL.
Well…that was at least what coursed through Heero's mind in a boringly repetitive sequence, much like a tape for 'Learn to speak French' or similar.
Heero didn't know whether to place Duo on the 'pleasure' or 'pain' side of the almighty justice line. He was teetering dangerously close to the 'pleasure' side though; no matter how hard he tried to will himself to regard Duo as a nuisance. Not even his well-trained mind was capable of it, which dismayed him greatly.
And then something occurred, which would send a normal human being into spasm of panic.
The laws of Newton, Boyle, and all other scientific masterminds, were broken fit to give a life sentence complete with a daily trip to an old fashioned electric chair for reinforced punishment.
"Showing yourself to a weakling, is very uncharacteristic of you, Yuy." A little voice on the shoulder exposed to air hissed quietly, in a tone very much like his own, except in a way it was…slightly chibified.
"I'm not showing myself as a weakling, voice." He replied in a growl, not paying attention to much else but convincing himself of his theories on fluff being more interesting than Duo by a mile. Fluff was fluffy, and full of fluff, and could change shape, it could be found on pillows, could be just about any color, and…
'Voice'?
Even Heero Yuy couldn't be prevented from landing with an audible thud on the floor, tangled up in his covers, which were intertwined across his body and over his head in some strange and almost impossible way. And after getting himself out of the shock of landing on the hard floor there was still one little detail that had to be sorted out…
Voice!? Stop and REWIND!
Ripping the sheets from where they were entangled, splitting a few seams of fabric, Heero stared up at the origin of the vocals in disbelief. He could have sworn he heard a voice, and it sounded a bit too much like…
His eyes locked on to the relatively small target.
And it took every ounce, every tiny miniscule portion of Perfect Soldier content he'd ever contained, not, to scream.
TBC
A/N: So whatcha think? ^^; I like writing…weird fics. Yessums, that I do. And I have a feeling this one will be …high up on the humor scale =P At least for my standards! Review, puh-leeeeease ^^