Plotbunnies... hate to love them
Nov. 10th, 2002 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
windandwaterSo, this was inspired by the fanart pic that I was pimping out a few days ago. Damn plotbunnies. Whenever I get stressed, I have this bad tendency to retreat from reality by writing. Huh... most of my best stuff came out during BishounenWars! Or at least, I was writing a whole lot of stuff for BW! I guess I must have been really stressed then. Grrr... maybe if I stress out enough, I can finish up Quid Pro Quo...
Heero leaned back against the couch cushions, idly twisting the end of Duo's braid between his fingers. Duo had fallen asleep not long ago; ironic because Duo had been the one to suggest a popcorn and movie night for the two of them. Heero turned his Prussian glance away from the images flickering on the TV screen and looked out the window instead, watching the quiet splatter of cold rain against the glass. The night was so dark, so cold, but Duo was laying with his head pillowed on Heero's lap as if that was where he was always meant to be. It was comfortable. Heero didn't complain, continuing to play with Duo's braid as he watched the rain.
Duo's hair was beautiful. The American had privately admitted that it was his personal vanity, that his hair was far too important to him to be mistreated. Heero could only agree, as his lover's own actions attested to that fact. Duo steadfastly refused to have his hair loose in public, always weaving it into his habitual braid. Even in the comfort of their apartment, Duo still pulled his hair back in some fashion, a ponytail sometimes... once even piled on his crown in a sloppy bun. But the times when Duo did let his hair down, Heero was always mesmerized. Freshly washed, every strand seemed to catch the light, showing off the myrid highlights in Duo's chestnut hair. Spread out beneath Duo's body, gleaming in the moonlight and spread across the pillows, Heero could never resist. It was so long, so thick, so unbelievably *Duo*... the Japanese man could never resist running his fingers through it. Duo asked him once -- while he was brushing the American's soft locks for him -- why he was so obsessed with his hair. Heero hadn't been able to answer, instead lifting up a handful of his lover's precious locks to his face and brushing them against his cheek, the faint scent of coconut filling his nostrils. Duo had made a soft sound of pleasure as Heero's hands tangled through his scalp, and the question had soon been forgotten.
But Heero's hair, unlike Duo's own chestnut locks, remained perpetually messy and untamable. He'd once tried to grow his hair out, not to the extent of his lover's, but
longer than the nearly-military cut he usually wore. Heero had thought that the added weight would make gravity pull everything into submission, but that was sadly not the case. He'd managed to grow his hair out until it reached the annoying stage -- where it was too long to stay out of the way, but too short to pull back -- but Duo had ruffled his slim fingers through his messy chocolate bangs one morning as if he was some sort of shaggy dog. Heero had cut his hair back to its normal length that same afternoon.
Heero leaned back against the couch cushions, idly twisting the end of Duo's braid between his fingers. Duo had fallen asleep not long ago; ironic because Duo had been the one to suggest a popcorn and movie night for the two of them. Heero turned his Prussian glance away from the images flickering on the TV screen and looked out the window instead, watching the quiet splatter of cold rain against the glass. The night was so dark, so cold, but Duo was laying with his head pillowed on Heero's lap as if that was where he was always meant to be. It was comfortable. Heero didn't complain, continuing to play with Duo's braid as he watched the rain.
Duo's hair was beautiful. The American had privately admitted that it was his personal vanity, that his hair was far too important to him to be mistreated. Heero could only agree, as his lover's own actions attested to that fact. Duo steadfastly refused to have his hair loose in public, always weaving it into his habitual braid. Even in the comfort of their apartment, Duo still pulled his hair back in some fashion, a ponytail sometimes... once even piled on his crown in a sloppy bun. But the times when Duo did let his hair down, Heero was always mesmerized. Freshly washed, every strand seemed to catch the light, showing off the myrid highlights in Duo's chestnut hair. Spread out beneath Duo's body, gleaming in the moonlight and spread across the pillows, Heero could never resist. It was so long, so thick, so unbelievably *Duo*... the Japanese man could never resist running his fingers through it. Duo asked him once -- while he was brushing the American's soft locks for him -- why he was so obsessed with his hair. Heero hadn't been able to answer, instead lifting up a handful of his lover's precious locks to his face and brushing them against his cheek, the faint scent of coconut filling his nostrils. Duo had made a soft sound of pleasure as Heero's hands tangled through his scalp, and the question had soon been forgotten.
But Heero's hair, unlike Duo's own chestnut locks, remained perpetually messy and untamable. He'd once tried to grow his hair out, not to the extent of his lover's, but
longer than the nearly-military cut he usually wore. Heero had thought that the added weight would make gravity pull everything into submission, but that was sadly not the case. He'd managed to grow his hair out until it reached the annoying stage -- where it was too long to stay out of the way, but too short to pull back -- but Duo had ruffled his slim fingers through his messy chocolate bangs one morning as if he was some sort of shaggy dog. Heero had cut his hair back to its normal length that same afternoon.
