Title: The Pavlov Principle
Author: Sailor Seraphim
Archive:
FanFiction.net
Sweetly Sour
All others please ask.
Rating: PG-13 for suggestive humor
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing or any of its related characters. If I did, the series would be chock-full of tasty shounen ai goodness. I do, however, own the situations which occur in this fic.
Pairings: 1x2x1, suggestion of 1x2
Warnings: graphic suggestions, abuse of haircare products, and wet shower stalls (which are notoriously dangerous places in this fandom)
Notes: :::points to title::: Pavlov. Studied behavioral conditioning. Conditioning. Ha! It's a pun. Get it? Bwahaha. ;; This is what happens when I write very late at night. For Sharon... because she asked nicely.
Feedback: I take all constructive criticism. No flames, as they leave nasty scorch marks on the carpet.
Duo was sitting on the lowered lid of the toilet, dripping wet and one threadbare towel wrapped around his shoulders. Heero simply stared at him from the confines of the shower stall, the door wide open, and heedless of the lukewarm spray still coming from the showerhead and rhythmically dripping over the tiles and floor. All Heero really COULD do was stare, almost fascinated, by the way lather slid down the tangled mass of chestnut framing Duo's wet body to splatter on the bathmat.
The American, however, was still staring at him accusingly from beneath his sodden bangs.
"I'm... sorry...?" Heero lamely offered, nearly wincing when Duo's glare increased.
"It was the LAST of my conditioner, Heero!" Duo shouted, his voice echoing through the small bathroom.
"I didn't know!" Heero replied, vainly pulling up a hasty defense. "It's slippery, I thought it would be good to use. I was preoccupied. How was I supposed to know it was for your hair?"
"Well, it certainly isn't going in my HAIR, not with where it is NOW," Duo retorted, another clump of suds flinging free to splat against the mirror when Duo shook his head angrily.
"I'll make it up to you." Heero's blue eyes took a speculative sheen and he was unable to stop himself from looking between Duo's legs, and then up to his hair, and back again.
"How?" Duo caught Heero's look and scowled. "And if you say salvage the stuff outta my a--"
"No!" Heero interrupted, his blue eyes looking horrified, and a bit guilty. "I'll... brush your hair out tonight. However long it takes."
Duo's violet glare wavered.
"And... I'll go shopping tomorrow. And buy that fancy conditioner."
The longhaired young man perked up. "The stuff I saw in the commercials? With the French name?"
Heero manfully held back a wince at the thought of the price of the designer product. "Yes. I'll... even get the matching shampoo."
Duo beamed and it was like the sun was shining again. Heero thanked whatever dieties existed that he wasn't in the doghouse for this one.
"Now get back in here and let me rinse you out."
A trail of suds and a threadbare towel were left in Duo's wake as he squeezed into the shower and closed the door. Heero carefully notched the water up hotter before pushing his lover into the spray and started to rinse out the chestnut locks he loved so much.
"Heero?"
"Yes?"
"You're... gonna rinse me out everywhere, right?" Duo squirmed, shifting from foot to foot. "'Cuz... I feel kinda funny. You know... down there."
Heero throttled back another sigh and kissed Duo's bare shoulder. "Of course."
Duo preened under the lavish attention. "Well, at least this'll teach ya not to put stuff where it's not supposed to go!"
-- Owari --