[I wrote this whilst trying to rid myself of writer's block. It didn't work, but I got a nice little (key work being little) ficlet out of it. I might expand on this later, but for now, take it as it is: simple.]
Sunday Evening
He watches the raindrops as they slide slowly down the window. It is not quite night yet outside; there is just enough light in the sky to cast shadows. He is frowning, the expression natural to him, as the weather remains monotonous. Someone enters the room, his name on their lips, and he turns, shaping the frown into something more welcome.
"I got some stuff—food mostly—cuz I noticed your fridge was empty. We can't eat take out all the time. It can't be very healthy." The speaker scrunches up his nose. "All that grease," he says, shaking his head, his long braid swinging behind him.
"Duo," he says, not moving to help the addressed. "You shouldn't do things like this."
"Why?" Duo asks, dropping the grocery bags onto the kitchen table. "You don't want the others to see me in your apartment, eh?" He smiles, but the humor doesn't reach his eyes.
"We shouldn't be seen together," he says adding, "None of us," upon seeing his companion's hurt expression. "Dangerous," he finishes simply, the single word explanation enough. For him anyway.
"Oh," is all the other says, silently unpacking the groceries. His back has stiffened slightly and he doesn't turn to face the other when he finally moves to help him. "Don't bother," Duo says shortly, snatching the loaf of bread from the other's hands. "I'll be finished in a minute and then I'll leave."
That's not what I meant, and you know it. But instead of speaking what he thinks, he snaps, "Give me the damn bread," and grabs the loaf back.
Duo stands very still for a moment, his empty hands open in front of him, before he resumes putting away the foodstuffs, as if nothing has passed between them.
Don't ignore me, dammit. Say something. But neither of them says anything, and then the groceries are put away and Duo is closing the door behind him and walking silently down the hall. Once he reaches the first floor, he'll wave goodbye to the night man, a false smile plastered on his face, and walk the five blocks to the small apartment he shares with a gray tabby.
While back inside, the other will resume his post at the window, watching the worsening rain, with a frown on his face and a self-hating monologue roaring between his ears.