1x2
Heero POV
Blue Jeans
Those jeans are damned tight,as he crouches down and works. They're curving over his ass and dipping low enough to show me skin. He tries to throw them out, every now and again, saying he's outgrown them. I dig them out of the trash bin, each time, and make them mysteriously reappear in his wardrobe. They even have a tear on one knee, ragged and open and showing a perfect kneecap. Something about that turns me on, severely, every time I see it. Duo Maxwell's kneecap. I've found a new fetish.
"Yuy?" Wu Fei growls at my side. "Didn't Une tell Duo that he had to be in uniform, from now on?"
"Did she?" I didn't even give him a glance. As if he had room to talk. The curved blade at his side wasn't regulation either.
"He's not going to get anywhere if he doesn't follow the rules," Wu Fei complained.
"We're the best," I growled back. "Where else does he want to be?"
We were silent, both of us watching Duo work. At last, Wu Fei couldn't help saying in disgust, "Those pants he's wearing are... indecent."
"Yes," I breathed, agreeing one hundred percent with that observation.
"His tattoo is utterly...," Wu Fei didn't dare say the word he was thinking. He knew that I wouldn't stand for it."Outrageous," he finally decided to say, thinking that it was safer than the other.
"Yes," I agreed and couldn't help smiling.
"Done!" Duo called out as he straightened, his mouth bristling with tools, and his hands full of bomb. He handed it off to his crack bomb squad and they took it away gingerly.
Duo let the tools drop into a tool box and then turned to us.
"Good work, Maxwell," Wu Fei grunted and that was a great deal, coming from him. Since Duo had just saved a quarter mile of city, it was fully due my lover.
I was more demonstrative of my appreciation for his skill. I grabbed Duo by his belt loops and pulled him in close for a quick, rough kiss. My free hand smoothed over that expanse of bare skin on his lower back and that outrageous tattoo. 'Defuse this', it said in a rather bold,black script.
Duo pulled up his pants inefectually in embarrassment. "I shouldn't have worn these. They're too damned small."
"No," I argued. "They're just right."
He grinned at me with a glint in his eye; wise to me. "Just like you, babe," he replied.
"Well worn and full of holes?" I laughed ruefully.
"Broken in and comfortable," he corrected me, suddenly serious.
I gave him another, very possessive kiss. "Then keep us both."
"The pants I might outgrow," he told me as he draped an arm over my shoulders and we walked back to our van, "But I'm never outgrowing you."
The ENd