You know, getting the shit
beaten out of me just before I get tossed
into an OZ prison cell is getting to be a really bad habit of mine.
Only this time instead of being in prison by myself, I get to have a
couple of roomies.
Lucky me.
I get dragged into this little cell, and what's the first thing out
of
Wonderboy's mouth?
"So, you botched your mission."
Hello? I'd botched MY mission? Well, isn't that a little ironic,
considering I'm not the only one sitting on my ass in this little
room,
now am I?
What an asshole.
And to think, I had actually been thinking about him...well, trying
not
to think about him anyway, but it's sort of the same thing.
Or...well,
hell, something like that. I think I do have a concussion this time.
Or
maybe it's just Heero Yuy. Something about him makes my brain feel
like
scrambled eggs, with a side of toast.
Forget it. All I want to do is get an hour of uninterrupted sleep
before it all the hap-hap-happiness of interrogation starts up
again...and unless I grew an extra pair of hands when I wasn't
looking,
someone is feeling me up. Well, what a day we are having. Here I am,
lying half dead, well, a quarter dead, certainly wounded and Mr.
Sensitive is copping a feel. In front of Chang, even, who knew he
was
so kinky?
Under different circumstances, I might not mind this; Hell, I might
even ask Chang what his opinion was on the logistics of a daisy
chain.
But laying here with the taste of my own blood in my mouth has
somehow
killed my sex drive a bit.
Wait a sec, Heero was touching me, but not all that hard, he just
seemed to...aw, dammit. He's checking to see how badly I'm hurt.
Well, fuck. Now I've maligned him in my thoughts, thereby making
myself
once again into the asshole where he's concerned. Score is ten for
ten
in that little side game.
And did I say my sex drive was down? Yeah, right. I'm telling you,
this
is just sad; that having Heero Yuy giving me an impersonal little
pat
down would be enough to give me a chubby.
You know, I've only met Wufei a couple of times, and he seemed like
an
OK guy, aside from the yardstick he had jammed up his ass. But right
now I could have cheerfully killed him, just to get him out of the
way.
Am I actually thinking about sex with Heero, after what happened the
last time? Jesus wept, what the hell am I doing? I have no idea. All
I
know is that this isn't a game anymore, not to him...and not to me.
What am I doing? What AM I doing? What am I going to do? The way I'm
feeling I won't be running anywhere anytime soon, and there isn't
anyplace to hide here even if I could. I doubt I could hide well
from
him anyway.
I'm not even sure I want to.
An old song I remember hearing once is rattling around the back of
my
head and I can't seem to shake it.
'...you say that you'll be there to catch me or will you only try to
trap
me...'
Which is it going to be, Yuy?
I opened my eyes and the first thing I saw was his tennis shoes. He
was
sitting Indian-style next to me and those nasty butt-ugly yellow
sneakers were just eye-level from my comfy position on the floor. I
swear if I only ever remember one thing about him it'll be those
shoes.
And, yeah, I'll admit it; his eyes are pretty damn memorable too.
Right now they were looking right at me, a shade of blue so deep it
should damn well be illegal and...and so fucking open to me. I can
almost
see what he's thinking right then, and to hell with anything else, I
can't even look away from him.
So, can't run, can't hide, so much for my personal credo. Only one
thing left now, and a lie of omission is still a lie...
"I slept with Quatre," I said, softly. A little frown line appeared
between his eyebrows. Well, he hasn't killed me, so far, so good.
"I slept with Trowa," he replied.
I blinked.
Huh? Him? Slept with Trowa? As in, -slept- slept?
Well, hell, who knew that once I got into his pants he'd turn into
the
slut of the Galaxy? I mean, I wasn't mad, not really, but at least
I'd
thought he was dead before I went bumping uglies with someone! And
here
I was just getting to think he was a nice guy, I should have stuck
with
my first impression of this guy! Grade A asshole, certified by the
Earth Alliance Asshole Commission...
...wait a second, this is Mr. Literal that we're talking to here.
I looked at him through narrowed eyes. "Slept with or had sex with?"
"Does it matter?"
With just that, I decided it really didn't. At this particular
little
pinprick in time, I wouldn't have cared if he'd boffed his way
through
the entire rank of Gundam pilots, and thrown in the good doctors as
a
side dish.
Carefully, trying not to aggravate any of the bruises that were
currently nesting in various places on my body, I shifted so my head
was in his lap. And he let me, without a word or a twitch or even a
glance at Chang over in the corner. For the first time in a very,
very
long time, the game didn't matter to me and I could have stayed
happily
in his lap until the day I died.
Which was more than likely going to be sooner than I cared to think
about.
A lot of people like my hair, but Heero seems to be borderline
obsessed
with it. Couldn't really undo it with his hands cuffed the way they
were but he was petting me like I was a stray puppy or something,
and I
was doing a pretty good puppy imitation myself, just letting him
stroke
me.
'...a stroke of luck or a gift from god? the hand of fate or devil's
claws?...'
Guess I'll find out, one way or another.
"Saved again by the spandex ranger," I whispered, not even bothering
to
open my eyes. He sighed softly and I wished I had looked, just to
see
if he was fighting a smile.
"Go to sleep, Duo."
Sounded like a plan to me.
-finis--
Comments and questions to:
mailto:keelywolfe@gmail.com
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