see part 1 for notes, warnings, disclaimer
+ Part 7
"Argh," Duo said, succinctly.
He wanted to sleep. Right up until the very instant he had no other option
but to get up. But his brutally disciplined circadian rhythms wouldn't
let him. He checked the digital clock again, it didn't seem to be advancing
at all. It wasn't meant to do that to him. Time was his friend! He was
meant to look, say, yes, six a.m. again and spring out of bed to do whatever
he had to do. The problem was, he had nothing to do but brood. He threw
the covers back over his head, but his mind was already whirring, doing
a quick assessment of all the tasks he had to do and how long it would
take to do them. He didn't like the total so he tried to suffocate himself
with the pillow for a while.
Okay... Calm... He didn't want to sleep in anyway. It wouldn't be a very
big leap from that to sitting in his boxers all day, drinking cans of
cider and actually finding talk shows interesting, then blowing musical
farts during the commercials.
When all the stuff he needed to do was done, the milk was fine, no need
to buy more, brushed his teeth, had a shower, cut his toe-nails, had breakfast,
he looked around the house for something else to do.
These kinds of mood could get dangerous, he thought. He'd end up shooting
people out of the window, then seeing how many police officers he could
take out before they got him.
A couple of hours later, he had built a gargantuan electric buzzer game.
It stretched right from one side of his living room to the other, curving
around his TV like a helter skelter and zig-zagging over his sofa. That
killed about another hour, he was just too good at navigating it. Then
he had to deconstruct it, he didn't want Seb accidentally decapitating
himself on the lower bends, and he'd probably need the parts anyway. That
took some time, because he had to do acrobatics that Trowa would be proud
of to get around and under some of the twists. That done, he occupied
himself further by building a much smaller one in the shape of a man in
an electric chair. He even managed a fairly worried expression, so he
had to deliberately touch the wire a couple of times to see it buzz and
vibrate like he actually was being electrocuted. Then he tidied up.
When he was done, he started lunch up so it'd be ready for Seb coming.
The plates were just coming out of the oven by the time he knocked on
the door. He was already blushing, and silently took his plate and headed
straight into the living room. Duo followed him with his own plate and
his crappy buzz game.
"You okay?" Duo asked.
"Yes," still vacuuming food, bright red, and not looking at him, though.
"Would it help if I told you you're not cute at all? In fact, you look
like a burns victim, and cuddle you? I'd rather cuddle a sack of shit."
That earned him a look at least, if not a very friendly one.
"Why does your little wire man look like Trowa?" Seb asked.
"It does not!" Duo looked at the distinctive hairstyle and big pants he'd
given it. Damn his evil subconscious. "Here, have a go."
"I don't want to execute Trowa."
"Ah, go on. He likes it."
"He likes being electrocuted?"
"This is his masochistic alterego."
Duo practically shoved it toward him, good job he was finished eating.
Seb had a few goes. He wasn't very good at it, which was guiltily satisfying.
He eventually put it down on the floor and went back to looking at his
"Hey," Duo said. "Don't go all awkward on me... You're all right, aren't
you? Nothing happened at school, did it? I'm not gonna have to kill anyone,
Seb looked at him again. Duo wondered if he'd ever been able to pull off
an expression that sulky when he was a teenager, and if he had, why nobody
had slapped him for it.
"So what's wrong?" he asked.
"Come on, you can tell me."
"No I can't."
Another sulky look. "Because..."
"Because is a coordinating conjunction, not an answer."
Seb gave him a glare, kind of like being glared at by a new, baby hamster,
then scooched closer to him on the sofa.
"So you don't wanna tell me," Duo said. "All right. Wanna hug?"
Seb nodded, and nearly winded him by flinging himself into him so fast.
"Hey... What's wrong?" Duo asked, watching the blonde head bury itself
in his T-shirt. It shook. Obviously he wasn't gonna get an answer that
way, so he squeezed him and stroked the back of his neck, which turned
red under his fingertips.
But there was the lunch hour time limit, so Duo tried again. "Is it home?"
"No..." Seb unburied his head, rolled back onto the sofa, shook his head,
then wrapped his arms around Duo's neck and planted his lips on his.
Duo dived back and flipped right over the arm of the sofa.
"Ouch," he said, from the floor.
"Are you okay?" Seb said, appearing overhead.
"No! What the hell do you think you're doing? You can't go springing stuff
like that on me! I coulda broke a hip!"
"Sorry," Seb said miserably, then jumped off the sofa. "You haven't pulled
your back or anything, have you?"
Duo sat up. "No. Christ, are you trying to get me arrested?"
And now he turned bright red, and fled.
Shit. And how the hell did he ever get beaten up if he could run like
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