Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, wish
I did, just enjoy writing about ‘em for free etc
Pairings: 1x2
Category: Xmas fluff & more
fluff
Warnings: Yaoi, lime
Spoilers: None
Notes: Be careful what you wish for… you may
receive it!
Happy (early) Christmas, merith!
Feedback: If you liked it, PLEASE
let me know!
Another one of my ‘Pocky
Christmas’ arc…
“Is this the right place?” whispered the lean, long-haired
young man. He untangled his ankles from
the pool of sacking on the floor and tumbled out. His pants were low on his hips, but stretched
easily with his movements. His vest was
a vivid turquoise. He gave a low
whistle, his eyes wide and bright in the dim light of the lounge. “Cool place,” he whispered. “Looks like people love living here.”
“Why are you whispering?” came
the sharp retort behind him. Another
young man shrugged off clumsy sacking, and stood up, brushing the threads of
canvas off his dark blue denim shirt and jeans.
He was as slender, but slightly shorter, and his hair was a carefully
controlled dark brown mess. “We’re
invited, right?”
He started to fold up the sack, carefully matching the
corners, shaking out the creases. The
sound behind him may have been the wind; it may have been a stifled snort. He whirled round, to find the other man
watching him, eyebrow raised. “So
what’s wrong with being tidy, Duo?” he snapped.
“It’s someone else’s house, after all!
Aren’t manners the same whatever time of year?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course! Heero, I’m just admiring your household
skills!”
Heero wondered how long admiration had been so damned
amusing. He chose to ignore the
jibe. His legs were still cramped from
the journey. “So where’s Santa? He was a
full few minutes ahead of us.”
“He made a dash for the –“
“- bathroom?”
“No,” grinned Duo. “The kitchen! Can’t you smell those chicken wings? His favourite, after all. There’s always extra here for him at
Christmas.”
Heero looked round at the comfortable room, with only
them in occupation. He frowned; this
wasn’t the traditional way; this wasn’t according to the Night Before Christmas plan.
“He’s always talking about wanting a change of
character -“ began Duo.
“Like the Invisible Man?” snapped Heero. “He doesn’t appear at all?”
“Less is more,
I guess,” smiled Duo.
“Except, of course,” growled Heero,
”in the case of –“
“- chicken wings!” laughed Duo. “Didn’t get a belly like a barrel from
cottage cheese! There’s a huge
investment in that paunch! All those
mince pies and sherry, every year –“
Heero lifted a pack of Pocky that had been left under
the tree with a ‘for Santa’ smiley-faced label.
He grimaced. “We’ll not be seeing
a slimline Santa this side of the next millennium,”
he complained. “I’ll be carrying the
sack myself in a year or two!”
Out in the hallway, a corpulently-challenged man in a
fleecy red suit stopped to hear their talk.
He had a glass of milk in one hand, a plate of chicken wings in the other. He’d been wondering whether it was worth his
time to go in and join his boys, when by the time he reached the living room,
he’d need to go back and fill the plate up again –
Sounded like they didn’t need him
for a while, anyway.
Though he wished that tight-ass Yuy would loosen up a bit and make the other kid’s day!
“Slimline Santa indeed!” he
grumbled. “Serve ‘em right if I just
left ‘em here to get on with it themselves!”
He thought for a moment about that; he twirled a wing
thoughtfully between plump, sticky fingers.
A smirk crawled out from under his whiskery moustache. Then he turned around and went back to the
kitchen.
His ideas always worked better with food in his
belly. More food, that was.
*
Duo had been irresistibly drawn to the fireplace.
“Great fire,” said Duo, softly. “Most houses don’t bother now; no chimneys,
no fireplaces. It’s just as I like it;
warm, and the flames low but still crackling.
Come lie down here and rest on the rug.”
“Now? There?”
Heero looked startled.
“What’s wrong with that? We’re to make ourselves at home, aren’t we?”
Duo threw himself down; Heero let himself carefully on
to the floor. Then they both laid out by the fireplace, side by side, flat on their
stomachs. Duo was leaning on his crossed
arms. They both stared into the fire;
nothing to listen to but the occasional splitting noise of a log, and the
flurrying sparks of a shifting cinder.
“This is great, eh?” Duo sighed.
“You already said that,” said Heero. His voice was rather tight. “It’s just a fire.”
“Hell, man, ease up will ya?”
groaned Duo. “I didn’t mean just the fire. I meant this whole thing; lying here,
relaxing. Christmas. Sometimes you are just one piece of hard
work, Yuy, y’know?”
Heero shook his head slightly, like he tried to wipe
away the scowl on his face. It wasn’t
really appropriate for the season, after all.
“What do you mean?” he said, hesitantly.
“Nothing,” said Duo, in that voice that always meant
the opposite. “Just lie here for a bit
‘til we get our orders from the Portly Postman.”
Heero thought he’d change the subject. “What do you think they’ll be?”
“What – the customer’s orders?” Duo shrugged.
“It ain’t gonna be another chess marathon, I can tell you, after you
thrashed that kid last year.”
“Nor another gourmet meal preparation,” retorted
Heero. “Blood in the sliced cabbage is
no kind of optional extra!”
“Hid it with the tomato puree…” grumbled Duo. “You don’t think she’ll want us to go to any
Christmas dances, do you?”
“Or sing carols!” said Heero, his face suddenly sharp
with horror.
Duo looked across quickly and flushed. “I can carry a tune, y’know, whatever you say
–“
“Carry it as far as you like, Maxwell,” said Heero,
rather brutally, “but take it out of my hearing!”
There was silence while they glared at each other.
Then, surprisingly, Heero sighed. “Sorry, Duo. That was unfair.”
Duo grimaced.
“Yeah – it was.”
“But true,” added Heero.
Duo smiled softly.
He didn’t dignify that with a reply.
*
The fire crackled, warmly.
Duo leant further forward, and for a minute, Heero
couldn’t see his face. “So - you got a problem with doing these gigs with me,
Heero?”
“What?”
Duo rubbed his hand over his head, ruffling his
hair. It was a nervous gesture. Heero knew it well. “Dunno. Just – you’re not particularly cool about it,
this year. You’re giving me these looks,
and you’re pretty sharp with the comments all the time…”
There was silence for a while. Duo traced out the flickering images in the
flames of every dried pasta shape he could remember. He was distracting himself, he knew.
“No,” said Heero, very softly. “No trouble at all. I like being with you.”
“OK,” smiled Duo.
He felt strangely shy, and thought himself pretty ridiculous for
it. “So we can just relax a bit,
right? It’s comfy here – and warm…”
“Very cosy,” said Heero, rather abruptly. Duo turned to him in surprise. He saw that Heero’s hand had been teasing at
the threads of the rug beside Duo’s hip.
Well, that was where he snatched it back from, when Duo looked down at
it.
“Too hot for you?”
Duo asked. “You look kinda flushed.”
“I’m good,” said Heero, firmly. They stared at each other for a bit, like
they weren’t sure what to say next. Then
Duo yawned a little, and rolled back on to his stomach. The two of them lay there for a another while, gazing into the flames.
Scarlet…gold…like
autumn leaves tumbling… thought Duo. He wondered, idly, what the reflections must
look like in Heero’s dark eyes. Not
quite idly enough. He shifted a little
awkwardly on his front. Wished he’d worn
the sweats, not his Christmas best pants.
Not conducive to warm, sensual feelings, right? He thought he might try to get more
comfortable; he wriggled, and his left foot slipped out to the side, and
hitched itself across Heero’s right foot.
He felt the man beside him start at the touch.
“Sorry,” he said.
He’d rarely sounded quite so unconvincing. He winced inside, and waited for Heero to
push his foot away.
“Don’t be,” came the soft
reply.
“Don’t be what?” he said, stupidly.
“Sorry,” replied Heero. “It’s good.”
He gave a slow, quiet chuckle.
“Your toes are warm, too.”
There was a stifled snort from outside in the hall,
but neither of them noticed. They seemed
to be concentrating on each other’s toes.
Chuckle?
thought the red-suited man, listening shamelessly from
behind the door. Toes? He fumbled in his pocket, and brought out a
clean glass. Thoughtfully, he placed it
at the flat wooden panel of the door.
Basic science, that was. The
elves taught it to him, from years of listening in to kids’ Christmas requests.
He couldn’t afford to miss this little drama, could he?
*
“So if it’s not me, what is it that’s buggin’ you?”
asked Duo. Heero was pretty comfortable
with their legs intertwining; he might let his hand slide over his shoulder as
well, in a minute. In
a long minute, of course. “Is it The Man in Red? He can be pretty tetchy this time of
year. Or Rudolph’s farting? Like - ughh, after a supper of mincemeat
and beans! Are you worried about this
place? You know she’s really cool about
us –“
“Not that!” said Heero, quickly. “This place is just fine! I couldn’t feel better about being with you,
than here –“
Duo was staring at him again, and he bit down on his
tongue. Cursed his clumsiness! Duo had looked like he might put his arm round
him, but now that was as likely as Santa and diet soda. He sighed to himself. He really was more used to the ‘strong,
silent, spandex-ed Soldier’ persona. He
wasn’t too good with the casual bonhomie of these Christmas visits – not like
Duo was. Duo was sociable and witty; Duo
made him nervous and awkward; Duo made him goosepimply. He’d have to talk to Santa about getting
transferred back to those military calls…
“You’re kinda tense, Heero,” said Duo. His face was twisted into an expression of
friendly concern. Pity he looked like
he’d just swallowed some of Rudolph’s supper.
“It’s – Christmas, that’s all. I find it - perplexing.”
“Well – duh – it always happens this time of year,
doesn’t it? ‘Tis
the season to be jolly’, and all that –“
Heero flushed again, and stared fixedly into the
fireplace. “Not always the easiest of
times, Duo.”
“Good to be with your family –“
began Duo, puzzled.
“Tension,” replied Heero, sharply. “Arguments; resentments stored up all year.”
“Presents –“
“Wasted cash; carelessness of what people really want.“
“Good food and drink –“ said
Duo, a little faintly.
“Indigestion!” snapped Heero.
“Jeez…” said Duo.
“I knew we’d somehow get back to Rudolph after all!”
He slid a look at Heero’s eyes; they glared back at
him for a moment. Then Duo smiled; his
mouth crept wider, into a full grin.
“Laugh, Heero!” he ordered. “You
know you want to, you old Scrooge!”
Heero protested.
“I don’t! Haven’t you listened to
a word I just said -?”
“Laugh!” persisted Duo. “Or I sing carols! Hark the Herald Reindeer Belch –“
Heero snorted with irritation.
“I Saw Rudolph Kissing Santa Claus – Jingle Smells - O
Come all ye Fart-ful –“
And Heero laughed.
*
“So what is it you
want for Christmas, Heero?”
“Me?”
“Uh-huh.”
Duo shifted as if to move a different side of his face
to the fire; his hand flopped over Heero’s body and nestled on the small of his
back. He held a breath; Heero didn’t
castrate him without hesitation, as he might have expected.
Behind the door, the round, red-robed gentleman
stuffed another wing in his mouth and pressed the empty glass closer to the
wood. Hard.
“Nothing,” Heero said.
He also had a tone of voice that meant the complete opposite – and Duo recognised
it.
“Guess I’ll take back the red-and-white-furry thong
then,” he snickered.
Heero looked at him with disgust. Or at least, he tried to. The hand on his back was very soothing; very
pleasant. It distracted his
disapproval. And anyway, he was still smiling
a little from Duo’s lunacy. Duo always
did that to him. “Just – help.”
“Help?” Of all things, Duo hadn’t expected that.
“With – the season. With looking forward to the new year. With some
strange, unsettling, confused feelings –“
“Shit,” said Duo, quietly.
Heero took a deep, brave breath, and reached his own
hand over to Duo’s back. But he slid his
hand that little bit lower; he squeezed at the tight, rounded globe of Duo’s
left buttock. He almost shut his eyes,
waiting for the angry yell. It never
came.
“- feelings about you, and the fun we have, and what
else there might be in life apart from presents and food, and the way you look
with those flames reflected in your eyes like liquid fire –“
“I’ll help you,” said Duo, quickly. He’d have expected to be abducted by aliens
before he’d have expected Heero’s hand there. It was damned good, though! His voice, when
it came out, was a little shaky. “With whatever
you need. That’s what I want for Christmas.”
“Help with friendship?”
“With more – with as much as you want. With everything I have,” he said,
simply. Jeez, he just wasn’t the world’s
greatest at sap, was he -?
But Heero was smiling at him, completely unprovoked by
his appallingly poor jokes, and there was this thing he did with his toes as
they ran up Duo’s leg that made him want to lie back on the rug and make
fur-fabric angels for the rest of the night –
Heero pushed him over, and suddenly the dark-haired
man was on top of him. Completely. Duo could
feel all the bumps in Heero’s body, squashed on to his own. His pants suddenly shrank in a non-existent
wash.
“Making out? Here? Now?” asked Duo. Stupid, stupid! he
groaned to himself. “Aren’t we here to make
someone else’s Christmas? To meet her request -?”
“She won’t mind,” said Heero.
“You know that, do you?” challenged Duo. “She could walk in any minute –“
“I know that,” said Heero, even more firmly. “Kiss me.”
Behind the door, Santa nodded, and a self-satisfied
grin creased across his ruddy face. He
folded the page of instructions he held in his hand, and rammed it back into
his voluminous pocket.
*
Santa continued to listen, still shamelessly. He reckoned it was a privilege of his
position, right? He heard the creak of
some furniture pushed carefully to one side; he heard the rustle of
clothing. He heard a stifled laugh, and
then some soft, wet noises like you get when two eager young people are
kissing. With tongues ‘n all, he thought
to himself.
They were making up for lost time.
Santa shifted the belt on his huge waist, and looked
at the last sticky bone in his hand. Time to be moving on.
There was chocolate at other places; lemon meringue pie; Christmas pudding
ice cream; brandy butter; Pocky!
Heero’s voice floated out from the living room, slow
and lazy, yet rippling with excitement.
“What did you really get me
for Christmas, Duo?”
“Told you,” came the
answering mumble.
“No, really –“ growled
Heero. There was the sound of elastic
snapping back on to slim thighs, and the yelp of a frustrated Duo.
“Yes, really, you sadist! Pull those pants back down now -”
“You didn’t -?”
came Heero’s voice, a lump of pure, horrified
amazement. “The thong? The – “
“Thing Thong Merrily on High!” trilled Duo’s high,
cracked singing voice. There were sounds
of a scuffle – the elastic shrieked again.
*
Santa picked up his beautifully folded sack, snapped
his fingers, and was gone. Almost. For one final
moment, a disembodied, fur-trimmed glove appeared out of the smoke, grabbed at
the final chicken wing, and then vanished again
The fire crackled contentedly.
End