Genre/Summary: Random funniness. Five drabbles in an AU, where Heero and Duo are best friends (and lawyers!), and Wufei is. um. hot. and gay.
A/N: I make no apologies for flusteredgeek!Heero. ^___~
Duo whistled under his breath.
Heero, startled, whirled and nearly stabbed Duo with his fork.
“You've been staring at him for two weeks, Heero.”
He hadn't been staring. Sure, maybe he'd been too absorbed looking through the pantry window at the back of a sleek, stylish figure and a long black ponytail, to notice when Duo had crept up on him, but Heero had definitely not been staring at anything or anyone in particular.
“I think you should ask him out.”
He managed a half-hearted growl and a string of distinctly jumbled choice oaths.
Duo raised an eyebrow. “Just because you're his boss, you can't ask him out?”
“It's not proper,” Heero mumbled, and then immediately wished he hadn't said anything.
He'd just closed his eyes and leaned back into his chair to take a breather from reading up on the case, when the door swung open and Duo appeared in its frame, clutching his stomach, a painfully huge grin on his face and a holler bursting from his throat:
“Good news, Heero! He's definitely gay!”
He shot out of his comfortable chair and all but leapt over his desk, yanking Duo back and slamming the door shut. What the hell was Duo on?
“Voice. Down.” he hissed.
Duo smirked at him unrepentantly. “You'll never guess. I kissed him.”
“He was so shocked he didn't react at first, but then he definitely kissed back—”
Heero felt his stomach lurch.
“—and then he pulled back and punched me so hard I think he broke a rib or two!” Duo continued enthusiastically.
Only after a long, heavy silence did Heero somehow make his way back to the desk. He groped blindly in the top tray for his trusty migraine medicine. “Duo,” he gritted out, “What part of that was a good thing?”
“Uh, let's see. He likes to kiss men but he doesn't seem to like me, and you're the only other guy around here who's even remotely good-looking, so it has to be you?”
“You're insane. That doesn't even make sense.”
“I've confirmed it,” Duo began conversationally. “I saw him looking at you!”
That was impossible. Heero would've known if a certain Chinese man even turned in his direction, because he watched that certain Chinese man all the time he could spare whenever the latter was within a twenty-meter radius, and so... “You're lying,” he accused.
“No, really,” Duo insisted. “Earlier, when you were on the phone with Judge Relena, and she was pissing you off so badly that you took your eyes off him for a second, remember? Then he looked at you!”
“...Did he look at me funny?”
Duo stared at him for a long moment. Then toppled off the chair, laughing so hard that he cried.
“Oh, you've got it so bad.”
Heero slammed the lid of the photocopier down, and wished profoundly for a moment that Duo's head was between the slides. “I do not,” he replied blandly. His finger jabbed at the buttons with more force than was probably necessary or advisable. The machine began to whir.
“Did you see what he was wearing today? You might have to change the dress code around here. If I see him one more time in those hugging black pants and that incredibly sexy white shirt—it seems to be his usual Friday attire, by the way—I might jump him myself.”
Oh he'd noticed. He'd more than noticed that pert— Damn it. Heero tore the copied sheets from the tray and attempted not to give himself away.
“You wouldn't dare,” he growled, before he could stop the words.
Duo raised a pitying eyebrow at him, and then Heero knew he'd fallen hook, line and sinker for the ploy.
“See? Told you that you had it bad.”
“Heero!” Duo flew into his office, anxiety and urgency creasing his brow, and flailing his limbs. “You've got to come quick! Something's happened to Wufei!”
He jerked up, the papers scattering, tension coiling in his gut like a whip. Duo vaulted over, grabbed his arm, and then all but dragged him out the door.
“He fainted in the pantry! God, he's so pale, maybe he hasn't been eating—” Duo was beginning to babble, and the tiny ball of fear swelled up in Heero's throat. He quickened his steps; not that Duo was letting up. They reached the pantry, and Duo paused for breath—
And then flung Heero, with considerable strength, into the pantry, and slammed the door behind him.
Heero's gaze landed on a pair of polished black shoes. And went up. And up.
Wufei was leaning against the counter, glasses perched precariously on his nose, coffee cup frozen halfway to his mouth. Dark eyes were darting between Heero and the closed door. From outside, Heero thought he heard a very faint, very maniacal laughter.
“...Is there any more...tea?” he croaked lamely, straightening up, distantly horrified at the knowledge that his tie was loose, his shirt was falling open, and his hair was in a right mess.
Wufei stared at him for another long moment, then jerked his head towards one of the left-hand side cabinets. “Yes. In there.”
His feet started automatically for the cabinet in question, even as Heero's blood pounded in his ears, partly anger surging up at Duo, mostly an unbearable flash of warmth, that he was in the same room alone as Wufei, and he was in the same room alone with Wufei...!
“Is something wrong?”
He almost had a heart attack. “No. Nothing's wrong. I'm just...tired. Tired from the long day.”
Wufei chuckled, and with an audible clink of a cup behind him, Heero suddenly felt the brush of a solid shoulder against his, and caught a whiff of the most delectable cologne he'd ever scented. “Just take a seat right there then. I'll make the tea. Sugar and milk?”
Oh. Oh. Heero's knees felt rather weak.
“Yes, please,” he managed past his dry throat.
Then wished he didn't sound so much like a dork.