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[mini-fics] Trowa & Duo [21--25 / 25]
5 Sentence Fics
[ Trowa & Duo - 01—05 | 06—10 | 11—15 | 16—20 | 21—25 ]

Characters: Trowa & Duo. Mentions of various - 21: OC w4rzone_ch1le / warzone_chile, 24: Heero.
Rating: G to PG-13 // 23 & 25: R
Warnings: Here and there some course language and profanity.
Disclaimer: here.


   
21 Aim

"Why do I always do this," Duo said when Trowa entered the living room with two mugs of coffee, "getting all fucked up over this warzone-chile guy's posts and indulging him by responding to his dumbass statements on World Peace?"

"Because you are seethingly passionate about the subject," Trowa replied as he put the mugs down on Duo's desk and took a seat, "which suits you and is nothing to bash yourself over."

"If you really see merit in the pointlessness of my engagement in this never-ending damned-to-Hell flame war," Duo said, casting a particularly grumpy glare, "it won't be long before you'll start saying things about how my way with verbal abuse makes the colour of my eyes come out."

"It does," Trowa replied, deadpan, "but I meant it's good you care."

"My heart may be in the right place," Duo said, failing to repress a fit of laughter at seeing his friend's wry look, "but I swear, the next time you ruin a perfectly foul dealing-with-trolls mood, my foot's gonna swing up the wrong ass."


   
22 Breather

Armed with a lunchbox and a suspense novel, Trowa sat himself down on a bench in the park. It had been yet another frustrating morning at the office; World Peace, to him, was the state of being too numb to fight from all the paperwork that came with the damn politics. Trowa found that spending his lunch break outside the office helped him maintain some of his sanity.

About two sandwiches into his story, his view on his book was obscured by a fluffy-looking white sphere on a green stick.

"Relena got her wish," he heard a familiar, cheerful voice say, "now you make yours."


   
23 Hell Hath No Fury

With a concerned frown, Trowa put a pile of confidential files in his briefcase and headed to the door of his office; the riot in the hallway seemed to be getting out of hand.

Nearly all of his colleagues were gathered around one very noisy individual - none other than Duo Maxwell; the former God of Death, mechanic at the company's garage these days, had recently started a training course in preparation for a special and particularly dangerous mission.
With some apprehension, Trowa made his way through the throng of people and witnessed his friend taping the card slot of a big red vending machine shut with duct tape.

"Been at H.Q. for only three goddamn days and already got a headache like a mother," Duo growled, to the amusement of many, "because of these weak-ass cups of brown piss that some corporate tea-drinking dick from the board wants us to believe is Coffee."

When Trowa managed to break up the congregation, he gently pushed Duo in the direction of his office, where he would reveal (illegally) possessing the small black apparatus that helped him keep the peace at work.


   
24 Breaking Point

Some sanitation problem in Duo's apartment block had to be taken care of, and since Heero refused to take him after a previous unsuccessful sleepover, I had my very first house guest last week.

The things Heero had warned me about were all true: Duo's compulsive sharing of useless —or even downright embarrassing— information right around bedtime; the fact it makes no difference where he discards his clothes because their sole purpose as laundry is to trip you up anyway; and his habit of re-enacting famous battles with his morning cereal before you've had the chance to finish your morning coffee — all true.
But the fact is, I really enjoyed having him around.

You should have seen the look on Heero's face when I told him it was Duo who left my apartment screaming the other night.

I guess I should have warned Duo that the mere idea of soggy cookie crumbs in my milk makes me retch, let alone feeling a piece —that he must have accidentally dropped in my glass while recreating a famous pre-colonial air raid— glibber down my throat.


   
25 The End Battle

Distracted by his companion's fist balling on the cinema chair's arm rest, Trowa glanced aside; the movie was reaching its climax and Duo seemed to be getting his money's worth of suspense.

"Goddamn it," Duo whispered through clenched teeth, "why did they have to put the damn flooding scene right at the fucking end of the movie?"

"If you'd read the book, you'd know," Trowa replied.

"If I'd known there'd be no bathroom break, I wouldn't have had that giant coke," Duo said as he pressed his knees tighter together, "but you knew, and you didn't warn me."

"I'm sorry, Duo," Trowa said, almost successfully repressing his amusement, "I forget sometimes that the God of Death has the same weaknesses we mortals do."