Pairings: 1X2, 3X4
A/N: I've been mondo-ly busy lately. Seussical just about killed me and then we had auditions sigh It's all good. In this chapter, we have a near-lemon dun dun dun and a crazy Russian introduction. Anywhere, if you're uncomfortable with the concept of... men... fornicating, watch for this chapter. Oh, and angst-sensitivity be wary. There's a lot of that too. Chapter title is a James Bond movie. R&R, etc.
Chapter Eight- From Russia With LoveHeero sighed heavily as he rode the subway back to the apartment. The Russian sat beside him, not saying much, which was perfectly fine with Heero. Unfortunately, he had learned all of the wrong languages, and Russian was not one he'd ever begun to know. Une knew that, and he had a sinking feeling that she'd sent the foreigner home with him simply to piss him off. He'd have to turn to Duo for a way to get his vengeance. The pair went into the apartment, and were greeted, yet again, by the poignant odor of turpentine and latex paint. The Russian wrinkled his nose in what appeared to be disgust and muttered something under his breath. It wouldn't have mattered if he'd jumped on top of the couch and shouted it; Heero still wouldn't have understood a single babbled word of it.
Duo strode in, typically parading himself about in a grandiose manner. "Good, evening, Hee-chan." He was going to make an effort to save their relationship when he saw the blond at Heero's side. Then, all of Duo's defenses were on. He crossed his arms. "Who's he?"
Heero shrugged. "Some refugee from Russia. I forget his name."
"What's he doing here?"
"Une put me in charge of him until the organization can set him up with housing."
"He must be important."
Heero shrugged again, setting his bag on the floor. "I suppose. I haven't gotten around the reading his file yet."
"Hm..." Then Duo turned his gaze on the Russian. "Privet," he added experimentally. The big blue eyes before him lit up.
"Privet!" exclaimed the newly exuberant voice. "Meenya zahvoot Kolya! A ty?" He then extended a hand.
"Meenya zahvoot... what the fuck?" he moaned, taking the Russian's hand.
"You speak Russian?"
"Just the one word."
"What the hell did you say?"
"Well... I thought it was 'hello'... I'm starting to rethink that."
"Hey, Heero," Lela's voice called from the kitchen. She tossed a wrapped-up diaper into the garbage can before walking into the living room with Julian in one arm, and a bottle in the other. "Who's your friend?"
"We don't know," Duo replied, still staring blankly back at the tall man. Neither of them knew what to say, so they just watched each other.
"He's a refugee from Russia. Une put him in my charge. He doesn't speak any English... at all."
"Ah..." then she turned her head towards the foreigner and slid Julian's bottle into one of the enormous pockets of her (formerly Heero's) jeans, extending the now-free hand to him. "Privet. Meenya zahvoot Lela. A ty?"
"Kolya," the Russian answered, wary of this girl. The man with the braid had appeared to be well versed in Russian, but he'd been mistaken on that account.
"Kak dela?"
"Ochen harasho. A ty?"
"Eh. No harasho, spasibo."
"Lela?" she glanced over at Duo. "When the fuck did you learn Russian?"
"When I lived, worked, and went to school in Russian for three years. I told you guys about that."
"Oh... right..." The Russian tapped her shoulder and began to speak rapidly towards Lela, hope in his eyes. She nodded.
"Dah. Kolya wants me to tell you that he's really happy to be in your home."
"Oh..." Kolya tapped Lela's shoulder and spoke again. She stared at him for a moment, her brow knitted in confusion before she questioned him. He pointed at Duo. "What's he saying about me?" Duo demanded, fear striking him. Lela ignored him, laughing as though Kolya had made some kind of grand joke, and then making a quick Russian explanation. Duo heard his name in their conversation wand was struck, yet again, with nervousness. "Lela... what are you telling him?"
"He thought your name was 'what the fuck.' He likes your hair."
"How do you say 'my name is?'"
"Meenya zahvoot," Lela answered off hand. Kolya glanced at her, and she simply shook her head.
"Oh... uh... Meenya zahvoot Duo."
"Dah," Kolya answered. He already knew this.
"Fantastic," Heero muttered, trudging off to his room. The other three stared on, confused at this boy. Kolya asked Lela something, and she simply shrugged and spouted a few words.
"What'd he say?"
"He was wondering what's wrong with Heero. I told him you'd take care of it."
"Ah... then I suppose it's Duo to the rescue, ne?" The boy walked off towards his bedroom, while Lela and Kolya went into the kitchen.
Heero was flopped back on the bed, his blue eyes staring upwards into the ceiling. His mind was lost on himself, plagued with a thousand questions without answers at once. He heard the door close, and few moments later felt weight on the bed beside him. He glanced to his left and saw Duo, lying on his side, grinning.
"Hey, there, Hee-chan. What's wrong?" Heero sighed. Duo was being straightforward, which meant that there was a chance that he actually cared about the conversation at hand.
"Nothing," he replied stonily, turning his head so that it pointed at the ceiling again. He felt Duo's warmth lean towards him and knew that his remark hadn't ended the conversation, much as he wanted it to.
"What do you mean nothing? Do I look like a sucker to you? You just turned down a perfectly good hunk of Russian. Who took the jam out of your donut, dude?"
"It's not important, Duo." He could feel the frustration radiating off his companion, but didn't do anything to aid him. He didn't care if Duo knew what was going on, or even if Duo felt unloved and ignorant. Somehow, in that moment, he didn't even care about Duo. That feeling soon passed, but that wasn't the point. The point was that in that moment, that instant, he hadn't given a shit about how Duo felt or what would happen to him. It was a bittersweet liberation. He felt partially freed from the seeming one-sidedness of his sinking relationship and that was a sweet fire in him. However, the warmth within him was suddenly iced over by the actuality of what had just happened. He hadn't cared about the lover, the one person he was always supposed to be able to rely on. Then again, Duo hadn't always been the most reliable lover himself.
"Oh, come on..." Duo moaned beside his ear, before he swung one leg over Heero's hip. He pulled himself upright, using Heero's shirt as handholds. Heero couldn't help the slim ribbon of erotic pleasure that whipped through his spine and snapped at his tailbone. He did his best to ignore it as Duo leaned down and propped himself on his elbows so that he and Heero were only inches away. When Duo spoke, his breath smelled like a hot, spicy cinnamon. Heero couldn't help but wonder what he'd been eating. "What's on your mind, kid?"
Heero thought about saying something romantic like 'You,' or 'Sex,' but those words managed to just barely evade his tongue. He leaned up as much as he could, and his lips blindly groped for Duo's. They touched, just barely, and Heero pulled back down again, letting his head fall against the pillows. Duo smirked and watched the brunette's dark bangs fall across his eyes.
"Oh... is that what this is about?" he asked. Heero stared at him. What did Duo mean by that? The braided boy leaned forward and kissed him softly. Then, he sat up, all the weight from ass pressed against Heero's hips. Heero had to hold in his breath, trying to avoid just this kind of situation. This was not good. Wait... they were supposed to be lovers. Duo's nimble fingers moved to Heero's blue shirt, undoing his collar button. "You're jealous of Lela?" He leaned down, and kissed the newly exposed skin of Heero's neck.
"No, Duo," he mumbled, softly, his voice already lost in pleasure. He tried to pull himself out, but it'd been a long time. A really long time. He felt the boy's fingers fumble with two more buttons, and then the soft warmth of Duo's lips against his aching skin. Duo's tongue swirled in that one spot where the two sides of his rib cage came together before he looked up at Heero.
"What's the matter?" he asked, his violet eyes filled with a teasing mystery. Heero grew to hate that mystery after a few years. His hands slid lower, and undid another of Heero's buttons. "Have I not been paying enough attention to you?" His tongue dipped into Heero's bellybutton and he grinned up at him. "Because, I can fix that, love."
Heero was shocked by the word. He remembered the first time Duo had called him 'love,' in that English way that people do to be funny. Except that Duo had meant it. It was a beautiful word, and held a beautiful meaning to him. That had been a while ago. A lot of things had changed since then. In addition, there were several factors to consider about this situation. First, there was a five-month-old, a seventeen-year-old girl, and a mysterious Russian man of unidentifiable age, all within ten feet of where Duo was planning on making him scream out in erotic pleasure. Second, he'd had a shit-tastic day, with Une breathing down his neck and sending him home with some rogue communist, and was really not in the mood for Duo to toy with him, his body, or his mind. Third, he wasn't totally sure how he was feeling about Duo at this point. Jesus Christ, was he PMSing or something? Not totally sure about feelings... honestly, how can someone sound like more of a woman than by saying something like that? But, it wasn't like Duo hadn't given him reasons to doubt how legitimate their relationship was. He always had a difficult time understanding if Duo slept with him because of obligation, habit, a need for sex, or love. Before Heero even realized he had disappeared into his own head, Duo had slid back the front of his shirt, exposing his entire pale chest and was running his hands over Heero's stomach. Duo's fingers slid around the sides, outlining the muscles around Heero's hips "So... what do you want?"
"Duo?"
"Yeah?" Duo's voice was heavy with something. Heero didn't want to imagine what right then.
"Get off."
Duo sat upright and cocked his head, lost in a state of confusion. "Come again, m'dear?"
"There is a baby, a Russian, and a homeless girl in our apartment, Duo. Now is not a good time." They both sat there for an instant, their minds held taught in some kind of battle. Heero plainly read the emotions on Duo's face: hurt, sadness, a wilted lust, horniness, rage, envy, confusion. All of them were there and even some ones that he was sure he had never seen gracing Duo's gorgeous eyes. Gorgeous eyes... Heero could remember the first time he'd ever gotten lost in his gaze. It was different then, and now all he wanted was to be free of those eyes, beautiful violet eyes. "Get the fuck off."
Duo rolled off of him, and sat up on the edge of the bed. He turned to Heero, his eyes flashing for just a second as their gazes locked. "It's never a good time, Heero." He rose and headed for the door, adjusting his black T-shirt. Heero hadn't realized the words until then. 'Come with me, into the trees...' He sighed. He loved that shirt. Duo's voice came back then, haunting him as his slender fingers reached for the doorknob, and those gorgeous eyes that had remained as specters in his vision glared thousands of icy daggers in his direction. "It never fucking is."