Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, just enjoy writing about 'em
for free etc
Category: Xmas fluff & more fluff
Warnings: Yaoi, lime
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
"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 --"
"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,
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?"
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
"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
"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?"
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
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
The fire crackled contentedly.
[back to Fancy Figures' fic]