Pairings: 2x3x2, 4xS, 2+OC, 2x5x2
Summary: Duo's life is in that mundane disorder that life occasionally
seems to get in and trying to sort it out is proving counterproductive.
Warnings: Yaoi, angst, of the mild guilt and 'argh' variety, shota.
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, I just do terrible things to it.
And also, I don't know if there ever was a film called 'Razors', but any
similarities are pure coincidence.
+ Part 1
The ceiling was too well-painted.
There should be more than shadows on it. There should be cobwebs or patches
where the newer white didn't quite cover the older white.
"You awake?" Duo asked.
"Yes," said Trowa.
Maybe he should paint it again, just so it looked less like that. Less
"How long've you been awake?"
And the bread in the cupboard was probably stale by now. He'd need to
get some more.
"Long enough to know you haven't slept."
"You know me, I sleep like a rabbit. Streets. Wars. It kinda makes you
And when was the last time he washed the dishes? Christ, he hadn't been
able to see the sink last week...
"I don't want to know you," said Trowa.
He'd been right about the dishes and the bread. Stupid housework. He had
better things to do with his weekend. Like avoid Une's clammy hands trying
to enlist him, repair the fridge, finalise the blueprints for that new
ultrasilent silencer, then try and come up with a consumable coolant that
could lower body temperature enough to keep the body out of range of all
the thermal weaponry he'd been perfecting. Hey, even if he wasn't gonna
join the Preventers, he may as well let Une pay him enough for his technology
to keep him comfortable.
Well, he supposed it wasn't urgent. He really needed to start timetabling
stuff, set up clearer boundaries between what he wanted to do and what
he needed to do.
"Is this rat poison?" said Trowa, pushing the little plastic tub on the
"Hey! I don't have rats! It works on mice too."
Trowa scowled disapprovingly at him. He'd showered and fully dressed somehow
in the time it had taken Duo to assess his kitchen.
"Would OZ soldier poison have bothered you so much?"
"No. It would have made my life a lot easier. Mice never started an oppressive
"You don't know that. They're enslaving the cockroaches right now. And
I, I am starting the cockroach emancipation movement."
"Stop killing the mice, Duo."
"They crap in my drawers!"
"This carries a death sentence?"
"Well, if you did it, let's assume I wouldn't be happy."
Trowa picked up the plastic tub and went elsewhere. Duo went back to trying
to unglue the plates from each other. They shoulda made mobile suits outta
"Aren't you at least disturbed by the inevitability of it?" said Trowa,
depositing an empty plastic tub on the bench. It didn't really matter
anyway, he had an industrial-sized bag of the stuff in his cupboard.
Duo added more washing-up liquid and sank his arm elbow-deep in the sink.
"Why would I get disturbed by what's inevitable?" he said. "We fucked
occasionally. it's not like I'm losing a live-in lover."
"Two years isn't occasionally."
"Yeah, but every month or so is."
Duo dragged his eyes away from the sudsy dishes to look at Trowa, who
dropped his key on the bench with a clink.
"I shouldn't have gave you that either," Duo said, scraping more coagulated
food with his nails. "We're stupid, right? I mean, were we even friends?"
"I thought so. Eventually."
"That's good at least. And this is too, I suppose. I mean, I know I'm
not in love and at least now I know that you're not, so we don't have
to have a big emotional dilemma. And we don't have to watch this rot even
more while we stick our fingers in our ears and sing 'lalaalaaalaa'-"
"I thought it was inevitable."
Trowa's head bobbed forward enough to make their lips nearly touch, then
he seemed to think better of it. Duo took his hand firmly in his and dragged
him into a hug.
"See ya..." he said.
Duo peeled his face form the blueprints and tried to rub away the drool,
until his ears adjusted to the sound that had woken him up. Ugh. Ringing
Crap, he thought, and ran for it. He just knew it was gonna stop as soon
as he reached it and he was gonna have to-
He slammed his palm into the 'accept call' button.
"You have ink all over your face."
"Meh," he said, trying to rub it off.
"Are you okay?"
"You don't normally sleep during the day."
"I was just resting my eyes!"
"For a couple of hours, by the looks of you."
"You shut up. Are you okay?"
"Yes, well, I hate to call you up just to get something I want, but...are
"No more than usual."
"Depends what you want..."
"A babysitter? I can't convince any of the ones I know to do it at such
short notice, and I don't want to try anyone I haven't vetted. I really
don't mind if you can't, but..."
"Sally's not on call tonight."
Quatre blushed. "Yes. I really don't mind-"
"Nah. 'Course I'll do it."
Quatre sagged visibly with relief. "Thank you so much," he said. "I owe
"Yeah, don't even think of paying. And you'd better not get a wink of
He blushed again, but grinned. "Thank you again. I hope he's not too much
"Nah. Seb loves me."
"He wasn't a teenager last time you saw him."
"Hey, I'm Shinigami, I can deal with a teenager."
"Well, they do have this way of being sweet and likeable when they're
not with their parents."
"Okay, well, I'm gonna get rid of the more hazardous stuff around here,
before he comes, you exercise that libido of yours, right?"
"I think Sally will tear out something vital if I answer that," he said.
"Thanks. Again. Bye."
God, when was the last time he saw him? It was before Trowa, way before
it, he'd been about ten. And ten-year-olds were way easier to impress
than thirteen-year-olds. Christ, he was holing himself up. When was the
last time he'd seen any of them in person, except Trowa. Around the same
time, wasn't it? Shit.
He finished hiding all the knives he'd had lying around the place, then
went to lock the room where he kept all the heavy-duty stiff and original
blueprints. On second thought, he'd probably need more than that. This
was Quatre's kid after all, and he'd been spending more than enough time
with Heero and Wufei from what he'd heard.
He was considering soldering the door shut when the doorbell rang. Ah
well, the lock was gonna hafta do. Hopefully the kid wasn't gonna bring
explosives or lockpicks anyway.
"Hi," said Seb, when he opened the door to him. "I brought Razors, not
actual razors, and popcorn, and chocolate raisins and did you know they'd
started making pockey again? Some retro company picked up the idea."
Duo nodded as the list went on, and tried not to get a cavity thinking
about it. Seb looked...Different obviously, but he wasn't meant to look
this kind of different. Last time he'd seen him he'd been as cute as those
weird plastic things they mass-marketed in Japan. He still had Quatre's
fluffy blonde hair and huge brown eyes from somewhere, but they had arranged
themselves in a way that was...It was bad cute. Bad cute. He thought he
wasn't gonna have to worry about girls and stuff until at least another
couple of years.
"Are you okay?" Seb asked.
"Yeah...So what kind of razors do you have?"
"It's a film. Seen the trailers?"
Trailers...? Man, when did he last watch TV? This was getting stupid.
"Can we watch it?" Seb asked hopefully.
"Yeah. TV's through here."
Seb grinned, revealing a silver brace.
Bad cute, again.
"Whoa, what's that?" Seb said, when they entered the sitting room.
"It's kinda hard to give it a name," said Duo. "It's a combination vidphone,
TV, radio, disc player, fax machine, home security system, alarm clock
and computer. What it lacks in discretion it makes up for in versatility."
"What do you mean, um? It rocks."
"Oh, yes, it does. It rocks. Sorry."
"Damn right. Now, where's that disc?"
Seb handed it over.
"Hey. This is an eighteen."
"Well, I've already had the Talk, horror film violence doesn't use real
human organs, nor harm the actors, and I'm not afraid of the dark."
Seb slumped onto the sofa and started rummaging around in his bag. Duo
examined his TV/fax/disc player...his contraption and tried to remember
which slot was which. He took a chance on the left one, it turned out
"Want some gummy bears? Cola bottles? Popcorn? Pockey?" Seb asked, as
he joined him.
"Too sweet," Duo said. "Don't suppose you've got any carrot sticks in
"You don't like pockey?"
"I don't morally object to it, just hate the way sweet stuff makes your
teeth all grainy."
Seb shrugged and tucked into the popcorn. The film seemed to be about
some weird loner-type man who slashed people up with, and here's where
the title was inspired, razors. He caught Seb hiding his face behind a
cushion a couple of times when he thought he wasn't looking. Ah, he thought.
Quatre and Sally don't normally let you watch this kind of stuff. Sneaky
Some bleached blonde chick was screaming on the screen. Obviously she'd
never had to see her own acting.
Seb jumped about a foot when the inevitable razor-clutching hand appeared.
Duo found he tuned out after that. In retrospect he'd have been better
off watching the film. His thoughts were full of brown bangs and green
eyes. That solid acrobats' body stretching and twisting or curling into
a weirdly protective ball on the sofa. He snapped out of it to see an
obviously frightened thirteen-year-old sitting in what he couldn't help
but think of as Trowa's space and the credits rolling. Yeah, Trowa was
even agile enough to stretch into places where he wasn't.
"You look unimpressed," Seb said, putting the cushion down guiltily.
"There are scarier films than that."
"That one with the big pink bunny and all the little birds."
"Happy Easter Adventures?"
"It's an eight foot bunny. What's not to be scared of?"
"It gives Easter eggs to small children."
"There's something sinister about that rabbit..."
Seb smiled, a hint of that silver brace again. "So if the enemy general
had dressed up as a big pink rabbit?"
"I suspect that Treize did."
"The enemy leader, right?"
"Yeah, until he died, then Zechs went crazy-"
Before he could tell himself that telling stories about the days of yore
was the defining activity of middle age, he'd launched into the whole
saga, with Seb occasionally making incredulous comments like 'you had
to rescue Heero?' and 'you actually got captured?'.
"Didn't your dad tell you about all that?" he said, after he'd got to
'and Heero saves the world. Again.'
"He doesn't think I should be exposed to violence. The danger of history
repeating itself and everything. What he doesn't know is I can barely
lift my book bag and I can't even hit the gym wall with a basketball.
Even when I'm standing two steps away."
"Ah. So how is school anyway?"
"It's okay. Mostly. I don't like science, though. I understand it, usually,
but it just seems a bit...cold."
"Cold, huh?" Duo thought about the hundreds upon hundreds of gun blueprints
he had stacked in the back room.
"Did dad really build Heero's Gundam?"
"And go crazy."
"Ask Heero about it, I wasn't there."
"What was it like inside a Gundam?"
"They give you a hell of a crick in your neck when you sleep in them.
And your ass goes to sleep after about an hour."
"But wasn't it cool?"
"Some of it was cool. The rest of it was ass-cramp and concussions."
Duo caught a glimpse of his watch.
"Holy crap! It's 3 A.M.! Your dad, or your mom, or both of them, are gonna
kill me! You can have the bed. Sofa's comfy enough for me."
Seb gave the dark passage to the bathroom and bedroom a stricken glance.
Obviously he did not have the same policies about lying.
"Actually," Duo said. "I'll share the bed with you. I confess. I'm
scared of the dark."
[part 2] [back to Singles
l - z]