Duo's triumphant return to the Domestic Bliss Arc. ^_^ This is a rather serious one, actually, so don't expect TOO much humor.
Author: Flamika
Category: Romance, Angst
Archiving: Take it!
Pairings: 1+2
Warnings: angst, adult language, mild lime, Duo's POV
Rating: R
Arc: Domestic Bliss

//these are thoughts//
-this is flashback dialogue-
*this is emphasized*

Run With Scissors

My heart thundered with fear as I slammed the closet doors shut behind me, wishing they locked from the inside. The space was dark, cramped and hot, but I really didn't care. Anyplace was safer than OUT THERE, where he was on the prowl. Cursing loudly and fumbling around blindly in the darkness, I crouched on my haunches and cowered behind the rack of clothes, pressing myself against the back wall and pushing hangers with jeans dangling off them in front of my body in a vain attempt to hide myself. My breath was coming in hard, fast gasps, and I could feel the sweat rolling down the back of my neck, soaking and staining the collar of my T-shirt. Fighting the urge to whimper, I reached behind myself and pulled my long braid in front of me, clutching at it protectively, trying to offer myself a small shred of comfort.

I heard the bedroom door open.

//Oh... fuck// I cursed silently, holding my breath and praying with all my might.

But, of course, since God hates me with a passion, he didn't answer my prayers.

Quiet footsteps immediately advanced towards the closet door, like a wolf hot on the trail of its prey. I started to tremble as a monstrous shadow fell over me, visible only through the slats in the closet doors. One hand still clutching stubbornly at my braid, my other one scrambled blindly for something to use as a makeshift weapon. I felt something cold and slender make contact with my questing fingers.

//Perfect... not really, though... it's a piece of shit, but it'll have to... //

And as the closet doors began to creak open, I gathered my strength and lunged at my attacker, brandishing the plastic hanger like a hook, aiming to skewer my tormenter and blast him into the fiery pits of blackest Hell. Die, tormenter, die!

Heero caught me by the wrist, wrenching the hanger from my grasp and sending me tumbling gracelessly to the floor, where I landed flat on my ass with a loud thud.

"Asshole," I cursed, glaring up at him angrily and trying to ignore the waves of pain coursing up my back. I had never known the floor in our apartment was so fucking hard. "I probably broke my buttbone, you know. It's gonna be your fault if I can't sit for a fucking week!"

"Duo," Heero said with a frustrated sigh, tossing the hanger back into the closet. "You're behaving childishly."

"What?!" I screeched at him. I can't stand it when Heero scolds me like I'm a runny-nosed little brat. "It's you who's chasing me around the apartment with a pair of fucking scissors!"

As soon as the words dropped from my flapping lips, I let my eyes stray to where Heero had the horrible evil scissors clutched in one fist, the sharp ends pointing down for safety's sake (like they teach you to do in kindergarten). The metal glittered sadistically underneath the lamplight in our room.

I hate scissors. So does my braid.

"Don't come near me with those things!" I spat at Heero as I lurched to my feet and started to back clumsily away from him. Lover or not, I wasn't letting him close to me so long as he had those wicked things in his hand.

Heero stalked after me, voice emotionless, as if he actually thought I found his monotone soothing or something. "Duo, listen to me. I just need to trim it a little. These are Lady Une's direct orders."

My eyes darted from side to side, judging the distance to the door and wondering if I could get to it before Yuy Scissorhands could. "Well, you know what?" I snapped at Heero. "Lady Une can KISS MY ASS!!!"

Yes, I was trying to be dramatic. Like that time back during the war when I yelled at Hilde before throwing my bag at her face (sorry, Hilde!). What can I say? I like making big scenes. So, in the process of trying to make my great escape, I had to do some fancy footwork in order to whirl around and lunge for the door before Heero could catch me.

Turns out that fancy footwork does not sit well with me. I tripped over my own two feet and fell flat on my face. Total nosedive. Let it be known to the world. Duo Maxwell is a big fat klutz.

And as I realized that I now had a sore nose to compliment my sore backside, Heero - being the heartless asshole that he is - decided to take advantage of my hapless position. Fortunately, since I have the reflexes of a mongoose, I knew instinctively that he was going to pin me to floor and managed to roll over onto my back just in time to see Heero looming over me. I let out this weird little shriek and tried to roll away, but Heero pounced on me, pinning my wrists to the floor and straddling my hips.

Now, normally, I love that position. It promises lots of pleasure, that position, but now I found it everything but pleasurable. Heero Yuy is a lot heavier than he looks, guys. It felt like a rhino was sitting on me.

"Get off, you stupid prick!" I spat angrily, but I didn't struggle against his iron grip. Hey, the man had a pair of fucking scissors in his hand! I was too crazy about the idea of gouging my own eye out.

"Just listen to me, Duo," Heero said calmly, but his eyes bore into mine intensely, willing me to calm down. Wasn't gonna happen, bubby boy!

"Getoffgetoffgetoffgetoff!!" I chanted, kicking my legs and trying to fling him off of me. Of course, since he was sitting on the upper parts of my thighs, I only succeeded in looking like a flailing fish. I suddenly had this totally hilarious image of me with gills and a fish tail, flopping around the deck of some boat... but if I could keep my braid, hell, turn me into a fish any day! Heero could keep me in a fish tank and display me in the living room or something.

The Duo Fish.

"Duo. Be quiet!" Heero snapped, pulling back as I lurched forward and tried to bite his nose. Duo the Piranha Fish. Now we're talkin'.

"You get off me, and then I'll be quiet!" I shot back at him.

"I'm not getting off," he deadpanned, and I could tell by the look in his eyes that he was serious. When is he not?

"Fine," I told him. "Ditch the scissors, and I'll let you stay on top of me."

"And you'll let me talk some sense into you?"

"I'll let you talk to me," I countered. "Can't say anything about the 'sense' part, though."

"Deal," Heero said after a moment of hesitation. He let go of my wrists and sat back - still using my groin for a makeshift chair, mind you. He calmly reached up and placed the scissors on the dresser, then folded his arms across his toned chest and looked down at me solemnly. I crossed my own arms over my chest, mocking him. I was half-tempted to stick my tongue out at him, too.

"I need to cut your hair," he stated flatly.

Just the words made me wince. "No," I said stubbornly.

Heero stared hard at me. "Duo, it caught on fire today. I need to trim it; it's become a safety hazard."

"My braid is just peachy poo, thank you very much!" I exclaimed. "And don't you dare call it such an ugly name as 'safety hazard' again! It's just a little... singed. That's all."

Actually, that was a lie. Fire had jumped onto my braid (damn that rotten fire!) during our mission earlier that day, and all of the strands at the bottom had sorta... melted together. But it was no big deal! Nothing I couldn't fix by my fucking self!

"Duo, I am going to cut your braid," Heero said slowly, pronouncing every word like I was some half-witted numbskull. He had that dark, serious look in his eyes still, and I knew right then and there that he wasn't going to take "no" for an answer. Heero is one of the only people in the world that I can't out-talk; he knows me too well. It sucks ass.

So I had to resort to other methods of persuasion.

"Heero... you don't want to cut my braid," I murmured, reaching out to slide my hands over his hips, the contours of them fitting perfectly into my hands.

I felt his muscles go rigid. Heero knows all my little tricks. But still he insisted, "I need to cut it. It's not a matter of whether I want to or not."

"Aw, c'mon, Heero," I told him in my sexiest voice (which wasn't very sexy, since I was feeling totally unsexy at the moment). "Let's not cut my braid. Let's do... something else."

Slowly, keeping my eyes on Heero's face the entire time, I tugged the hem of his white tank top out of his jeans, the fabric severely wrinkled after being tucked into his pants the entire day. I slid my hands under his shirt, running them over his well-muscled belly and warm skin. Despite the resolute statement on his face, I felt him trembling slightly beneath my touch, something the Hee-meister only does when he's trying to fight his own lust. I was starting to think that my fiendish little scheme was going to work after all. Maybe I could save my poor braid and get laid at the same time...

Heero inhaled sharply when my questing fingers pinched his nipples, rubbing them in circles until they were rock hard. Heero is one of those rare guys who has those awesome, totally sensitive nipples. They're great, I tell you. Makes foreplay all the more sweeter.

Think what you want about me. So what if I was using immoral methods to protect my braid? Heero just didn't understand how important it was to me. I wasn't beyond spreading for him if it meant that he would leave my hair alone. Wait... does that make me into some sort of slut? No, just a desperate man.

However, turns out that I shouldn't have even bothered trying to pleasure him, the little bastard. I was getting ready to pull his shirt over his head when he suddenly ruined everything by reaching up and picking the scissors off the dresser, looking sternly at me as he did so. I froze, and my mood, which had been floating towards happy- and-hot-and-horny, suddenly plummeted down to severely-royally- extremely-pissed-off. I yanked my hands out from the warmth under his tank top and folded them across my chest again.

"Fucker," I snarled at him. That was it! His dick wasn't getting anywhere near my ass for the next few fucking years!

"Duo," Heero said firmly, placing one hand right next to my head and leaning down close to me. The front of his tank top dropped scandalously low, and I was able to glimpse the pink nipples that I had be fondling a few moments before.

I love it when Heero lectures me.

I probably would have jumped his bones right then and there if I hadn't been totally PO'ed... and if he wasn't holding those goddamn scissors.

"Hey, my eyes are up here," Heero said dryly, aware of what I was looking at. Yet the coy little bastard made no move to readjust his tank top. Heero knows he has power, and he knows where he has it, goddamn him.

"Duo, look at me," he ordered.

//I think not//

"No thanks," I said in a mock-cheerful voice, still staring down his shirt. "I like what I'm looking at right now."

"Dammit, Duo," he uttered, and I couldn't help but blink in surprise. Heero only swears when he's really pissed or really frustrated. Well... shit. What can I say? I have this great knack for both pissing off AND frustrating people. It's a talent. Don't hate me because I'm beautiful and that good crap.

Heero grabbed my chin and firmly lifted it, forcing me to meet his eyes. Yep, this was definitely a lecture coming on. Goody. "Duo, you need to quit being irrational," Heero began calmly. "You know that I have to cut some of it off, and it's not because Lady Une told me to. I know that it means a lot to you, but it's a hazard, Duo. It's endangering your life. Sure, it may have only been the dam-the braid that caught on fire this time, but what if it's you the next time?"

I was stunned by the sudden emotion I saw in his eyes. So that was it. He didn't want me... hurt. Fancy that. Great... I could already feel my heart melting into this huge puddle of mush. All I could see were those big blue eyes of his, so alive and so... Heero.

"Fine!" I told him, my voice sounding like a hiss. "Do whatever you want! But you're alone on this one, buddy. No help from me." I coldly turned my face away. God forgive me, but I wasn't going to make this easy for Heero, no matter how much I loved him.

//They'll never forgive me for letting him do this... //

Heero climbed off of me and extended one hand down, offering me help getting up while the scissors still gleamed bright and brilliant in the other hand. "Come on, Duo," he urged in what I knew to be his most gentle tone of voice.

I glared up at him, forcing my weak heart and jellyfish spine not to give into the love and tenderness I saw in those eyes. "I told you," I said coldly. "I'm not going to help you on this. If you want me to go anywhere, you're gonna have to drag my goddamn ass."

//Sorry, Heero//

My lover's eyes narrowed, but he said, "Fine."

Every once in a while, I'm reminded just how much stronger Heero is than me. Maybe it was due to Dr. J's horrific training or all those Wheaties he eats for breakfast, I don't know, but when he saw that I had every intention of lying there on the floor until the fat lady started singing, he decided that it was time to jog my memory. Shoving the scissors in his pocket (probably not the safest thing to do), he just reached down, picked my intentionally-limp body off the floor and slung me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Yeah, I eat Captain Crunch for breakfast. Maybe I should change my diet.

Not even affected by one hundred plus pounds of Duo hanging over his shoulder, Heero proceeded to carry me in the direction of the bathroom. I could barely resist the urge to slap his ass, being that it was only inches away from my itchy little fingers. Actually, though, I couldn't really see it in all its glory because I, in my infinite wisdom, had untucked his tank top so I could play with his nipples. Oh well. You win some, you lose some. Seems that I'm always losing more than I'm winning, of course.

Heero dumped me unceremoniously to the bathroom floor. Well, actually he didn't dump me onto the floor. I dumped myself. He tried to put me on my feet, and I let my body crumple bonelessly to hard tile. I smacked my head, and, yeah, it sorta hurt, but I didn't say anything.

Heero's face appeared above me. He looked worried. Damn, being mean to him was getting harder and harder by the minute. "Are you alright?" he asked me.

I just stared at the ceiling, a scowl permanently plastered on my face. We had a couple of cracks in the ceiling that I hadn't noticed before. Big, giant cracks, too. You'd think we had a pair of elephants for upstairs neighbors or something.

Once Heero determined that I wasn't going to be answering him anytime within the next year or so, he grunted and shrugged his shoulders before moving away from me and heading in the direction of the shower. A second later, I heard the sound of water running. He popped back into my view like a Jack-In-The-Box. "I'm going to wash your hair," he said flatly. "Take off your clothes."

I glared at the ceiling.

"Duo, if you don't take off your own clothes, then I'm going to have to take them off for you."

//Go for it buddy. Ain't nothing you haven't done before// I thought to myself.

After much necessary groping (hooray!) and flopping my limbs around (ouch!), Heero finally managed to get me nekked. Well, almost nekked. He left my boxers on. How kind of him to at least let me keep some of my dignity. Scooping me up in his arms again, Heero carried me across the bathroom to where the shower was running full blast, the water cascading down the sides of the stall. He propped me up against the side, and I tried not to start hacking as water found its way up my nose. Then, to my surprise, Heero climbed into the shower with me, tank top and jeans and all. He didn't even bother to close the shower stall door behind him! Guy's a total weirdo sometimes, I swear!

"I'm going to undo your braid," he told me. I didn't bother to answer him. I was more interested in the sensation created by the water sinking through my boxers and touching my skin. It sorta tickled.

And so began the most painful and pleasurable hair-washing session of my entire life.

Heero had a hell of a time getting the band off the end of my braid, since the metal of it had sorta melted along with my ends of my hair. He finally busted out his nifty little scissors and cut the band off, tossing it over his shoulder, where it landed on the floor of the bathroom. Damn... it was the dreaded pink band. I had been walking around with a pink hairtie on the end of my braid for the entire day. Just dandy. That's what I get for getting dressed in the dark at the buttcrack of dawn when I'm still half-asleep.