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Gaming

Duo is sprawled out on the couch, one leg hanging off the side while the other is bent and resting against the back cushions. Heero is on the edge of his seat next to Duo, his elbows resting on his knees. He hunches over the controller in his hands, thumbs twiddling and pressing different buttons. Duo's hands mirror Heero's, the controller hovering over his stomach. The sounds of shots being fired and chaos spreading across the world boom from the speakers and echo through the room. Lights flash from the screen, illuminating the pair as they stare at the television. Video games had become a guilty pleasure between the two of them. With their extreme dexterity and tech skills from their years as pilots, the two had become very talented in the art of gaming. Not to mention the ever-present competition between the two.

"Shit!" Duo shouts, making his character duck and run from Heero's oncoming attack.

Heero's fingers are moving crazy fast (stupid genetically enhanced tech genius, Duo mentally grumbles), a speed Duo can only wish to ever achieve. The messy-haired young man manages to get through Duo's defenses, landing a critical blow to his character. Duo drops his controller on his stomach with an incoherent mumble. "What was that?" Heero teases, cupping a hand behind his ear.

The braided man sticks his tongue out at his boyfriend. "You're such a cheat," he complains. Picking up the controller, Duo declares a rematch.

The ex-Wing pilot grins, raising his eyebrows. "Are you sure you want to get your ass kicked again?"

With a growl, Duo turns his gaze to the television once more. "Oh, it's on."

Five minutes later, Duo is rolled over, face first in the couch, muttering to himself about the unfairness that is life. Heero's deep chuckle punctuates Duo's unintelligible ramblings, egging on the braided man's minor tantrum. That's when the doorbell rings. Duo doesn't move, face still pressed into the throw pillow in despair. The sound of Heero's laughter steadily lowers in volume, and Duo assumes he is answering the door.

A few pleasantries are exchanged. Then, "Dude, is he okay?" Duo hears someone (presumably the pizza man) ask. A small chuckle mingles with the mutterings into the pillow.

Heero's laugh booms. "Yeah, he's just upset I kicked his ass in Call of Duty, again," he calls, taunting the L2 man. Ever the gentleman, Duo salutes in the direction of the door, shooting up only his middle finger. Both men laugh and the door closes soon after. Duo can feel the couch shift as Heero sits back down. He peeks out from his pillow to see the pizza sitting out on the coffee table, begging to be devoured. "You gonna join me?" Heero asks, a smile in his voice.

Hesitating a few moments, Duo's bottomless pit of a stomach finally wins its battle with his wounded pride and forces him to sit up and snatch a piece. Heero's smirk is beyond cute. "I'm still not over it," Duo mutters around a mouthful of cheesy heaven.

Heero scoots closer to his braided companion, his hip bumping against Duo's. "You're such a sore loser," he says.

Glaring at him, the taller man takes another bite of pizza. "Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

Duo sighs. "Maybe I am! What of it?"

Heero chuckles as Duo sticks his tongue out at him. He leans down, pecking Duo's cheek sweetly. "You're adorable," he mutters.

Wounded pride be damned: Duo curls up next to him, resting his head on his boyfriend's shoulder. He wraps his arm around Duo's frame, hugging him close to his side. Tucking his feet under him, Duo kisses Heero's neck. "I love you."

The smile Heero wears can light up a room. "I love you too," he murmurs against Duo's lips before kissing him.

The two eat pizza and play video games the rest of the night. Heero tries to let Duo win a few times, and even though Duo knows what he's doing, he can't help but be happy. Maybe Duo's a little too competitive. Or maybe he just loves having the sweetest boyfriend on the planet and in outer space.