A Reason for the Season
Part Three (Final)
Duo slumped into his armchair, scowling at the door. Who did Heero think he was, anyway? Showing up with gifts. Well, fuck him, too. Picking up the remote, Duo pressed the "on" button with a bit too much force, succeeding only in turning the television on and off again in very quick succession. Irritated with the TV in particular and the situation in general, Duo dropped the remote on the ground -- a bit forcefully -- and picked up the book he'd been reading.
He was distracted from that, as well, as a small "thud" echoed from his bedroom. Having a pretty good idea what he was about to see, he dog-eared his page, rather than a clunky bookmark, and held his book at the ready. He chucked it with all his might as his dark-haired friend emerged, aim flawless.
The somewhat muffled curse and resounding THUD were almost enough to make him drop the agitation. Almost.
"Why the Hell are you sneaking into my apartment?" he growled, crossing his arms with more force than was logically necessary. "Can't you catch a hint?"
Heero rubbed his forehead with a slight wince, ass on the ground for a reason that was not entirely his own. "Obviously not. Ouch. If I'd known you had PMS, I would've stayed the fuck away." He scowled at the American briefly before pulling himself to his feet. "What've you got against gifts, anyway?" he asked, walking, with his plastic bag, to sit on the couch kitty-corner from Duo's recliner.
Duo met scowl-for-scowl as he replied, "I've got nothin' against gifts, it's just Christmas I've got issues with." His scowl depened -- and, outside from his knowledge, his eyes crossed very slightly -- as he realized he'd said a bit more than he'd wanted to. Not his fault. Heero had trespassed. He had every right to be pissed. . . . yeah.
The trespasser blinked, something bordering on blank confusion washing across his face. "Huh? Why do you have something against Christmas?"
As he had learned from the past three years of almost-friendship, Duo was painfully unable to remain upset with his friend. Consciously, he figured it was probably because of the social retardation Heero so obviously suffered from. Deep in the depths of a place Duo liked to pretend didn't exist, he knew it was because they were friends, and friends just didn't get mad at each other for stupid things. Or, truly, anything of weight less than all of Western Europe. "Bad memories. So can ya leave, now?" He relaxed his upper body, not really wanting the tight muscles clenching would leave him with, and sunk back into the chair.
Heero's confused look flickered for a second, being replaced by something bordering more on understanding. "All right. Well," he said, looking at the gifts next to him, "how about this?" He stood, bringing the gifts with him, and plopped the bag down on Duo's lap. "Congratulations on a year without war."
