Uh . . . if you're still talking to me at the end of this part I will be highly surprised.
Author: Anria Lalumin
Disclaimer: not mine. See, not a difficult guess.
Warnings: angst, yaoi, alcohol abuse
Pairings: 1x3, 4x5, and you're gonna kill me.

Thinking About Forever + Part 9


Duo's head shot up and he stared incredulously at Trowa, who had leapt out of his seat waving a printout over his head in a completely out of character display of exuberance. The green-eyed man charged through the office towards his lover, leaving turned heads and curious looks in his wake, and dropped the piece of paper in front of him. Even from his desk across the wide expanse of Preventers HQ head office, Duo could hear the other man say, "Suck on that, Yuy!"

He was up and out of his seat before he'd even finished the thought.

"Hey guys," Duo said brightly, jogging up. "What's up? You're makin' a bit of a scene, Tro-babe."

"I finally got a mission!" Trowa told him. "I was beginning to think Une wanted me to put down roots in the office."

"Well, you are her favourite baby boy, after all," Duo said, eyes wide with mischief. "Maybe she wanted you close for nefarious purposes of her own -- don't stay too late in the office, Tro, we don't want Heero to get jealous!" "Duo," said man intoned flatly.

"Yeah, Hee-chan?"

"Don't call me that. And shut up."

Duo grinned and gave the back of his head a mock salute. "Yes, sir!" he said, then clapped Trowa on the shoulder. "Good luck with your mission, Tro," he said cheerfully. "Try not to get blown up." He then flounced back off to his desk, leaving Trowa shaking his head and Heero glaring after him.


Trowa's mission had him leave three days later. It was dangerous; they'd been given a tip about a reputedly vicious gang which they knew had been selling arms illegally had now branched out into smuggling Gundanium in large amounts. Nobody ever needed that much Gundanium for anything other than a mobile suit, so Trowa had been sent to go in undercover and leak out information in order to pin the crime on them and be able to legally prosecute.

Duo was worried about his friend, but that was nothing unusual. He always worried about any of them whenever they went out on missions. Once back in his lonely apartment, TV on for noise and comfort value rather than entertainment, he wondered if any of the others worried about him.

Quatre will, he thought with a snort. But I wonder if --

Whatever he wondered was cut short when the phone rang. Answering it, he got the familiar scowl of his favourite prank target.

"Hey Heero," he said brightly.


"Whatcha call for?"

There was a long silence.

Then, "I'm sorry, I'll -- "

Suddenly, it clicked. His lover's left on the first mission he's had since they became lovers, Duo realised. Not only that, it's potentially -- hell, definitely -- extremely dangerous.

And he's scared.

"Do you want me to come over?"

Heero just looked at him, then nodded jerkily. The vidphone screen went blank.

Duo smiled at it sadly. "Good ol' Heero, scared of his emotions." He shook his head and sighed, then went hunting for his boots.

At least tonight he wouldn't be alone.


It was well into the night, and Heero and Duo were seated on the living room floor in Heero and Trowa's apartment. Duo had decided it was his solemn duty to get Heero drop-dead drunk, but since Heero would never subject himself to a condition that others weren't getting into, he was now finding himself more than a little shit-faced too. Empty bottles and beer cans littered the floor.

They sat opposite each other, Heero leaning against the wall with his long jean-clad legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, Duo leaning against the sofa with one black clad leg stretched out and the other bent so he could rest his current bottle on his knee.

"Say, Hee~ro," Duo slurred, making an effort to pronounce everything clearly. "D'you ever get worried?"

"About what?" the Japanese man asked, staring straight ahead and taking a drink out of his can. It appeared he wasn't a happy drunk tonight.

"'Bout us," Duo said, waving his arms expansively and nearly knocking the lamp off the table.


"When we go on missions 'n stuff."

Heero froze, and Duo suddenly realised what he'd said. Way to bring up what he's tense over, Maxwell, he thought sarcastically to himself through the comforting haze of alcohol.

"Do you?"

Duo's eyebrow twitched. Wasn't expecting that, he thought. Omae o korosu, maybe, but not that. . . . "Yep, sure do," he said cheerfully, and squinted into his bottle to see if there was any left. Satisfied their was, he took a drink.


Heero was focusing on him now, intense blue eyes (even when dead drunk) boring a hole into his. Duo swirled his mouthful of beer around thoughtfully, savouring the acrid taste before swallowing. "I's not 'coz I don't 'spect you guys 'n all," he said slowly, "i's jus' that you gotta partner on missions if y' like it or not, an' I never think tha' they c'n do as good a job as I c'n." Satisfied with his explanation, Duo took another drink.

It took Heero's beer-fuddled brain a while to translate that into "It's not because I don't respect you guys and all, it's just that you've got a partner on missions if you like it or not, and I never think that they can do as good a job as I can."

Heero pondered that for a while, with Duo content to be quiet for once, then idly took another drink. "Do you worry about me?" he asked suddenly.

Duo looked up in surprise. "'Course," he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Y' kept tryin' t' blow yerself up in the wars, an' then you go an' ask me that?"

"So you worry about me because I self-destructed?"

"Naw, I worry 'bout you 'coz you're my f-f-friend," he said, enunciating the last word slowly and clearly, then grinned. "An' my friend likes t' blow himself up."

Heero frowned, thinking this through, then said, "Why did you run out of Quatre's apartment the other day?" Duo had long ago decided to answer any question of this kind with a flat-out lie, breaking his motto or not. "I did?" he answered in seeming amazement. "I don' 'member none o' that!" He giggled. "'Course, I was com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced, so I's not surprisin'. . . ."

Heero appeared to accept this, frowning for a moment, then finishing off his can. "You want another beer?" he asked.

Duo's mouth twisted comically, and he held his bottle up and head height and peered into it as though it held the secrets to the universe. After a long moment's deliberation, he said, "Nope! I'm already com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced, s' I'd bett'r stop." He liked saying 'com-pleeeeete-ely shit-faced'.

"Okay." Heero attempted to stand, leaning heavily against the wall. He staggered in the direction of the kitchen and what was left of his supply of beer, then tripped over his own feet and began a nasty fall. He didn't finish it because Duo lunged to catch him.

"Y'know what, bud~dy," he slurred. "I fink you've had 'nough too." He shifted so Heero's arm was over his shoulders and his around the Japanese man's waist, and hauled on his friend, tugging him towards the bedroom. "I's gonna put yooooo t' bed, an' them 'm gonna go crash on the couch. S'okay?"

"S'okay," Heero muttered, trying to focus on making his feet go one in front of the other, not one in front of Duo's.

Eventually they managed to manoeuvre themselves into the bedroom, and Duo dropped Heero on the bed. He intended to make his way back into the disaster area of the living room, but found himself somehow on his back on the bed with Heero looming over him.

"Stay," the other man breathed, then swooped in and kissed him fiercely.

There was a reason he shouldn't be doing this, Duo thought. There was a reason . . . a niggling little reason that stayed in the back of his mind and whispered to him what he was doing was wrong, wrong. . . . But he couldn't quite figure out why. . . .

Heero had his shirt undone by now, and was running calloused fingers over his nipples, still kissing Duo fiercely. Fire swept through him, his own panting breath drowning out the sound of that little voice in the back of his mind. His arms tightened around Heero, and he was swept away into the passion Heero's hands and lips were inducing.

He'd work it out in the morning.


A/N: Eep! Don't kill me!

[part 8] [part 10] [back to Anria's fic]