This is the sequel to my parody fic I Could Be the One (To Make You Feel That Way). I decided to keep that as a one-shot, but because I'll Cover Angel and Collins loved it so much, here's the sequel. I highly recommend reading the prequel before reading this. That way, you'll understand this fic more, and you'll have a laugh before reading this fic, which is also probably going to make you laugh, especially if you're anti-Duncan. Enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I'm too young and too crazy to own Total Drama.
Duncan sat in his seat with his arms folded, scowling. He could not believe this. Why would Chris willingly allow some of the contestants to feck off to another country without his supervision while they were already on vacation? Duncan had no idea why. All he knew was that at one point in his life, he was so drunk he married the last person in the entire universe that he would ever dare think about marrying.
Speaking of which, Harold sat on the seat next to Duncan's. He got the window seat. Both he and Duncan wanted it. Harold wanted it because every time he got on a plane he sat by the window seat. Duncan wanted it because that way he'd feel more sheltered from his fellow passengers. They were all giving Duncan and Harold perplexed looks. They've all seen Total Drama, and they all knew that Duncan and Harold hated each other. Duncan hoped that they were just assuming that he and Harold were on probation after having a huge fight that caused destruction or something along those lines. Anyway, Harold got the window seat, because he threatened to sit on Duncan's lap if Duncan got it. Naturally, Duncan could have beaten up Harold for the seat, but then again, if he did, not only would he get arrested for assault, he'd also get arrested for domestic violence, and he does not want to go back to prison.
What's worse is that Trent insisted on going with them, so Duncan was forced to sit next to Trent. Harold bought tickets for an Aer Lingus flight instead of a Ryanair flight, even though the Ryanair flight was cheaper. The fact that Aer Lingus has nine letters gave Trent a second reason to travel to Shannon Airport with Duncan and Harold.
The first reason was because Ireland recently passed a constitutional amendment to allow Irish citizens aged 18 or over to marry anything they want, and they can have up to eight spouses at once. This means that Trent can finally marry the number nine! He couldn't wait. He turned to face Duncan and grinned.
"Who are you looking at, Doctor Nine?!" Duncan demanded.
"Isn't this exciting?!" beamed Trent.
"No," Duncan rolled his eyes.
"Aw, c'mon, don't be like that," Trent begged. "This is an exciting time of our lives. You and Harold are happily married, and I get to marry the number nine!" Duncan rolled his eyes again, thinking Trent is a moron.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Duncan sneered. He wanted to listen to his music to calm his nerves, but all of his songs were on his phone and the staff on the aeroplane insisted that everyone turned off their phones. They weren't even allowed to put their phones on flight mode. All Duncan could do now was get out a book from Harold's backpack. Harold brought quite a few books with him, including science books and history books. Duncan sighed in relief, however, when he noticed that Harold also brought a Hunger Games book. He loved the Hunger Games, and even though he's read the books several times each he still could not get enough of them. He opened up the book, only to discover traces of drool and mucous along most of the pages. Yep, that was definitely Harold's book alright. Duncan sighed relentlessly as he shoved the book back into Harold's backpack and slumped on his chair. Harold reached out his hand and clasped Duncan's hand in his. Duncan looked at him. Harold smiled as a barely visible stream of mucous oozed out of his left nostril.
"Gosh, Duncan this is going to be romantic," he beamed. Duncan flinched as Harold let go of his hand to wipe the snot off of his nose and rub it against the window.
"Yeah, sure, whatever," Duncan sneered. Missing the sarcastic tone in his husband's voice, Harold gave Duncan a kiss on the cheek. Duncan cringed again. As soon as he got back to Canada, he was going to file for an annulment.
Harold, Duncan and Trent finally arrived at the airport. While Trent and Harold were waiting to collect the luggage, Duncan made a dash for the toilets to wash his cheek in hot water. Now, he could have done that on the plane, but there was no way Duncan was going to climb over Trent to get to the toilet. If Duncan was going to have to climb over Trent, Trent was going to make Duncan do it nine times, so Duncan was forced to sit in his seat and hold his piss for two whole hours as they flew from Faro Airport to Shannon Airport. In the end, Duncan spent ten minutes in the bathroom; three minutes pissing into the urinal, seven minutes dunking his head under hot water at the sink to wipe away Harold's germs from his face.
Duncan raised his head to see his reflection in the mirror. He could not believe how drunk he was yesterday. He was going to kill Izzy for spiking his drink the next time he saw her. And if he was going to kill her, he was going to make sure he did it in Ireland. They'd probably suspend all but one day of his sentence. Why wouldn't day? They'd just consider Duncan a psychopath and release him back into the wild. However, if Duncan did kill Izzy, the Canadian government would have him brought back to Canada to be charged with high treason and receive a life sentence, because the whole reason why Canada is considered a world superpower and that every other country in the world feared Canada was because Izzy lives there. With a final splash of the face with hot water, Duncan dried himself up with the hand-dryer and walked out of the toilets.
"There you are, GOSH!" Harold scowled, as they left the airport. "What took you so long?!"
"Had to take a shit," Duncan lied. This earned him stares from parents who happened to be passing with their young children. Duncan ignored them and said, "So where are we going now, deer?!"
"We're staying at a hotel in Lahinch, plus we hired a car," said Harold. "It was nice of Trent to offer to drive."
"Fine," Duncan huffed, putting his luggage into the boot of the car. This was going to be one long honeymoon, he thought.
Duncan knew that this was going to be a long honeymoon because the drive to Lahinch along was long enough. Trent took the wrong turn and they ended up in Limerick. Harold then insisted that they stop and a video game shop and look around and Trent insisted on searching the entire city of Limerick for a 'number nine store', even though there was none. They went back on the route to Lahinch, but first they had to stop at Bunratty Castle because Harold wanted to explore the castle and Trent wanted to preach the Number Nine Religion to the other tourists, much to their discomfort. No one was as uncomfortable as Duncan, however. When they got to Newmarket-on-Fergus they had to stop for diesel, and when they got to Ennis, Harold insisted on stopping at one of Ennis's endless chain of Chinese restaurants and have a romantic evening with Duncan while Trent went about the streets of the town preaching the Number Nine Religion. It was dark by the time they reached Lahinch and it took the trio two hours to find their hotel. That was very late, considering that nightfall doesn't come about until ten in Ireland during the summer. Thankfully, the hotel manager was a huge Total Drama fan, and an even huger fan of DunHarold, so she didn't mind they were late. Of course, she ignored the glares Duncan was giving her.
Duncan and Harold finally found themselves in their hotel room. Duncan was still scowling. He did not want to share a bed with Harold, and he had a long list of reasons why he does not want to sleep with Harold other than the fact that he's not in love with Harold. Duncan cringed as he watched Harold strip out of his clothes and put on his pyjamas. Much to Duncan's humour, however, Harold's pyjamas were baby blue and they had yellow and red trains on them.
"What's so funny?" Harold wondered as he caught Duncan smirking.
"Who wears that at your age?!" Duncan chuckled.
"Hey, I love trains!" Harold breathed, hopping into bed. He patted the space next to him and said, "You should get some sleep. We've been up since four o'clock in the morning, and you were very drunk last night."
"Don't remind me," Duncan scowled, as he stripped out of his clothes and climbed into bed with Harold, wearing only his boxers. He turned off the night-light before plopping his head down on his pillow.
"Duncan?!" Harold asked five minutes later.
"What do you want, twerp?!" Duncan hissed.
"Do you ever wonder how we are going to conceive kids?" Harold asked. "Should we adopt, or should we hire a surrogate mother? And if we decide to hire a surrogate mother, which country should she be inseminated in? Should it be the United States, or Armenia, or Cyprus?"
"Can we not have this discussion?!" Duncan demanded.
"Okay," said Harold. Ten minutes later, Harold asked: "Duncan? Do you want to have sex with me?"
That question alone caused Duncan to faint. Harold shrugged, assuming silence meant 'yes'.
And there we have it, the first night of Harold and Duncan's tedious honeymoon. It's going to get even worse from here, especially when Trent goes through with his plans to marry the number nine. There will be other odd couples in this fic as well, but this is all about Duncan and Harold. This may only be a few chapters long, but then again, the number of chapters depends on how popular this fic is. And don't worry; I'm not finished with My Big Fat Creepy Roommate. I still have loads more chapters to write for it.
Until next time!