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"Flagged: Urgent"Written By: Fancy Figures & link_worshiper Disclaimer: I don't own 'em, wish I did, just
enjoy writing about 'em for free etc Pairing: 1+2 Warnings: Humour, romance, conversation(email),
lemon for risqué talk typing. Rating: R Summary: Heero and Duo are seeking new accommodation,
but as always, there are too many forms to fill in… Dedication: For Sharon’s birthday 2007 –
here’s to a wonderful day for a wonderful person! "Flagged: Urgent" To: Duo Maxwell(BiteMyBraid@scythesuxx.net)
It is imperative that you complete the attached application form by Wednesday 28 February, otherwise we will lose the opportunity to move into a more respectable neighbourhood at the end of this college year. I have checked out the house on our behalf, and although the furnishings are sparse and the landlord has some unnerving kind of condition whereby his left eye moves independently of the right, I believe its location will be more conducive to our study. There are few clubs or bars nearby, and the lack of other habitation for several miles in either direction will enable us to concentrate on obtaining good results. I must also assure you that I have spoken to same landlord and explained that it is inappropriate for him to peer at the lower half of my body and scratch his crotch during conversation. Chang agreed with me about the scratching, but he said that if I prohibited peering at my body, it would seriously cramp some people’s style. He would not mention any names or elaborate. I’m rather glad that he’s found other accommodation of his own this semester. He appears to find sexual innuendo in everything, and I have no intention of providing ammunition for that kind of behaviour. I attach a copy of the template for your familarisation, with a few careful instructions to aid you. Please return your copy to me by return, so that I can collate our responses.
Age Sexual preference Medical conditions Financial commitments Career prospects References
I anticipate your response at your earliest convenience.
Be so proud of how quickly I got back to you. I finally reached the end of the Internet and have seen everything there is to see. I needed a new amusement. Please refrain from spreading too many rumours about the dog thing. If you have to know, I have a perfectly legitimate reason for the whole fiasco. There’s no way you could tell me that if a piece of shit kid cut you in line and bought the last Choco-Taco from the ice cream vendor, you wouldn’t be pissed too. The dog just happened to be convenient to the scene; I didn’t mean to provoke it when I threw that tennis ball at the little brat. Clearly, the kid won’t be pressing any charges, because if she did, she’d lose on grounds of BEING A GREEDY BITCH. Oh, and thanks for the links. I might need to sit down with you with them, though; I don’t have patience for sites like these. I have patience for you, though. And patience for your patience with all that. I leave the house in your good judgement. You know I’m not exceedingly picky, though there are a few things I’d like to know, like how many beds there are, and are there any rules about pets, etc. I’ve been thinking of getting a bunny. Or a snake. Whichever strikes you – I like both. Huh, it’s funny what you say about the landlord, though. Because I know you know I stare at your body a lot, and you’ve never said three words about it. Actually, I sometimes wonder if you actually encourage that kind of behaviour, since a lot of the displays you carry on in my presence aren’t exactly that easy to ignore, Mr. I-Think-Boxer-Briefs-Are-Perfectly-Acceptable-Bottoms-For-Midterm-Cramming-Sessions. You set yourself up, you know. Anything Wufei snipes at you with is totally deserved, I say. Anyway, I took the liberty of filling out your silly form. I’ll let you know as I go if there are any problems.
Age Sexual preference I like it on top, but you know, the matter is always up for negotiation. For the record, I can’t be held accountable for anything I do between the hours of midnight and 7AM the next morning, particularly on a weekend. The incident in the middle of the night can be completely blamed on a bet I made with Quatre a half hour prior after he got me wasted on some crapshoot drinking game. It’s your fault for parading around in that wet Speedo of yours, anyway. Medical conditions Before I start, I need to know, does gamer’s thumb count as a medical ailment? Because this is a recurring status effect, and I think I may have actually managed to strain a tendon or two during last week’s Soul Calibur tourney. Been popping ibuprofen like it’s my job since, but a couple vicodin from your med stash would probably clear it up faster. Also, I resent your implication that I abuse your medical prowess for possibly selfish reasons. If you’re suggesting that my climbing into the shower with you was proof of such a claim, I seem to remember you prescribing that I take more of them if I was so concerned about the way I smell. It’s not my fault you happened to be in the bathroom at the same time it was most convenient for me to follow through on your medical advice. Financial commitments Does calling you from the privacy of my room require pants? Because I have a very strict no pants policy when I’m in my own space. Now that you’ve been forewarned for future visits, further comments will be ignored – and I’m using that word because I venture to say that you’ve never exactly complained about me being pants-less. I think your eager hands were proof enough of that when you were oh-so-kindly helping me change after the pneumonia incident. On the subject, I also refuse to believe that the only spare set of bottoms you had was that pair of short shorts Relena gave you as a joke present last Valentine’s Day. The jury’s still out on whether or not your motivation with that one had more to do with seeing my ass covered with such an obscene pattern or just plain seeing my ass. Also, if my browsing E-bay is such a problem, then I’ll have to find something to do with the new shower curtain I bought you for your birthday. I thought you’d particularly appreciate the sexual position alphabet that’s printed on it. But next time a gift-giving occasion arises, remind me to selfishly pinch my pennies.
Super hero is so cliché and totally stepping on your realm of job claims anyway, *Heero*. Besides, I’ve always secretly dreamed of being a submarine, though I think the suggestions you had the last time we discussed this topic were rather tempting options. I was a little too drawn by the hands-on demonstration to remember exactly what job you said involved sucking the lips off your face, so if you could remind me, it would be much appreciated. For the sake of this form, I mean. Please make sure you have those chessmen cookies for our next meeting. Oh, and those Japanese rice cracker thingies I like. You should know the ones I mean, since you were the one more concerned with feeding them to *me* than eating any yourself. References Well, it would seem Wufei’s at least good for a sexual reference. Nice to know he’s woken up to the birds and the bees. Though for everything *you* don’t know about me, I can say your hands and your mouth can fill you in on. They seem to have the experience, anyway. Regarding lectures, I could probably get up in time for them if you were sleeping nearby enough to wake me up. The chocolate sauce might not have met the end it did if you’d been willing to share a couple late-night sundaes with me. So I blame you. I can’t get any further with this thing until you clear some of that up for me. But I know you lead an excitingly busy life in front of your computer, downloading porn, so no rush. I understand the importance of this. -- Duo PS PPS ++++
Sexual Preference Enough said about this.
Your spirited response to this section does not support your claims to be in need of my medical attention, nor my bandaging of specific genitalia, nor the use of my washing facilities at the same time as I am utilising them. For the record, you do not smell unpleasant, not like the college nurse. You will remember that I told you that, shortly after you bullied your way into my shower. It was just before I pressed you accidentally against the wall and stumbled against you. Continuously. I apologise for the accident, and for the mess on your belly. I appreciate the fact that you showed tolerance of that event.
What you wear in your own room is your decision, though
I would hope that you will show more respect for me when/if we conclude
this sharing arrangement. The shower curtain sounds of interest. I would have to examine it to determine its added value. It might complement the gift I have for you of a selection of moulded back massagers. Trowa had nothing but recommendation for the sealed catalogue.
On a not altogether unrelated subject, I find your eating
habits both incomprehensible and unhealthy. I will be taking an active
part in improving your diet, once we move in. Licking the remnants
of a Choco-taco from your lips is only one part of that campaign. References Re: the lecture attendance and the proximity of sleeping arrangements. It appears that the house is still under refurbishment, hence its inexpensive cost. As a result, there is only one operational bedroom, as I think I mentioned. Maybe I didn’t. Of course, if I were sleeping near you, I suspect my
own discipline would deteriorate. For rising early, I mean.
Regards PS PPS ++++ To: Heero Yuy(heeroyuyesq@sensibleinternet.net)
Sorry for bouncing this back a little late, but I’m returning it to follow up your impromptu visit to my dorm the other day to clear up a few lingering issues. I would have sent it sooner, but after you left, I got caught up in a marathon of all three seasons of Aqua Teen Hunger Force, during which I discovered a real affinity for doodling on my book bag with sharpies. Am still recovering from the fumes. Anyway, as you know, I appreciate your sarcasm heartily, but you really aren’t in a position to knock me for bluntness when I specifically recall having to look up evasive action for you on more than one occasion. You can trim and edit to your heart’s content, but don’t go cutting me out of whatever you submit. I think our future landlord has every right to know what he’s inviting onto his property. Though whether his main concern should be you or me is something that can be determined by a game of Rock-Paper-Scissors, or perhaps even a coin toss.
As far as you’re concerned, I’m not sure my particular preference is all that private, as you sure didn’t seem too shocked by that little factoid the other night. In fact, if I remember correctly, *you* were the one wailing in the ungodly hours of the morning how much you liked being on your hands and knees, bub. If, for some freak reason, you’ve since forgotten, I still have the tape. Remind me to thank Wufei for mentioning camcorders; I always knew he was an ideas man. And by the way, if it was in such strict confidence you were confiding, then how come Quatre was there, presence of alcoholic beverage notwithstanding? I was merely trying to make sense of the endless parade of hair care products you shower upon me so *thoughtfully*, as if I had no idea how to keep up my own ‘do. Though your affinity for the cowboy role-play suddenly made a lot more sense after Tro brought it up. Intense negotiation will be necessary in light of this discussion, mister. Though maybe if you do end up accepting the sexual position alphabet curtain for your birthday, we can do an experimental study of it suited to whatever your tastes may or may not be.
If that’s the case, I might have to explore the possibility of doing a more in-depth study of the symptoms of gamer’s thumb as my thesis next year, as I feel it’s an ailment that affects a wide scope of people. Be sure that I make a note to include Wii elbow in my research. I may need your assistance for the project if it ends up happening, so I hope you’ve got your game on. And not the hanky-panky sort, you perv. Save that for those dating sims you play when you think no one’s around. Also, I don’t see why you hold me in such contempt for asking you to help me out after you accidentally kicked me in the balls during last season’s soccer playoffs. My rocks hurt like a bitch for days after that, you jerk; the least you could have done was offer them a little cushioning, though the massage did help the swelling a little. The mess I made on the cuff of your new shirt is as easily forgiven as the one you made on my stomach after that series of accidental trips in the shower. Don’t worry; I won’t let anyone know that you’re such a bumbling klutz behind closed doors. Or shower curtains, as it were.
I’m sorry I wasn’t aware that your organized your underwear by cut *and* colour. Would you be so kind as to let me know where the lacy panties go in your meticulous system so I may replace them properly next time? I wasn’t sure if they should proceed or follow the satin ones with the little, blue bows, as you failed to include material as being a part of the aforementioned system. Continuing on the subject of undergarments, though, if we do end up following through on this shared house thing, I would hope that we’d have grown familiar enough with each other’s presence that wandering to the kitchen in various degrees of undress won’t be such a shocker. And before you point the finger about the inexplicable rosy shades certain regions of my body turn, at least I have yet to be guilty of the full-body blush – unlike certain people, who, if my memory once again serves me right, tend to become the most pleasant shade of dark pink from head to toe at even simple things, like me brushing out my hair. The fact that I was straddling your lap while I was doing this is completely inconsequential. Though you must tell me, what happens if I agree with any sarcasm from Wufei about your state of denial? Because I kind of think he may be onto something there. Though, then again, the further mention of a gift that will undeniably require you to drape yourself across my body sends more mixed messages and leads me to continue to question just how underhanded you are, you sly dog.
A professional tongue massager sounds like it could be an acceptable alternative to submarine, though I must state here and now that I’ll be very selective about my customers. I’d like to keep it down to one to avoid confusion, germs and the possible spread of the rabies I may or may not have contracted. Since it’s probably already too late for you, I accept your request for my services and will continue in your employ. Payment in sweets is preferable though not mandatory. Which reminds me that though I appreciate your concern for my diet, it’s not an issue you need to stress too much over. All that misdirected energy could be used for other, far more engaging activities, like coming to a final conclusion about the protein content of various bodily fluids. I will proceed to do a preliminary search on the Wiki to see if Wufei’s got his facts straight. Or gay, considering our personal circumstances. References If sexual reference isn’t a category, then what the heck is your excuse? Because if anyone is constantly inserting kink and fetish into just about everything, I point the finger at you. Though this may just be an observation founded on personal experience that only I’m privy to. Re: The bed count, you failed to mention, but I’m willing to make do with whatever arrangements we have to make. Are you aware of the A/C situation? Because if it’s faulty and we have to share a tight space, I may have to sleep in the birthday suit. I hope this doesn’t become an issue. Though considering your habit for magnetizing to my skin, I suspect it won’t. Also, I resent the suggestion that my presence stops your internal clock from functioning properly. I won’t field any comments that my lackadaisical ways osmose into you with skin-to-skin contact. It’s not my fault someone’s elephant-sized libido keeps sleep at bay until the cock crows. The rooster, I mean. As for blank discs, I have to go out and buy more. At the moment, I only have one left, so if you could please at least copy the one with the artist and the CEO in the office after hours, I can stop combing the intarweb for a torrent. I’m sorry for insinuating that you illegally stream, though; I thought it was inferred that I understood you subscribe for legit downloads. Yours, PS PPS
To: Duo Maxwell (BiteMyBraid@scythesuxx.net)
I attempted to collate the answers to the form, and
enlisted Wufei’s help in paraphrasing the sections. It pains
me to say it, but this was maybe one of the worst decisions I have
made this year. I copy you in here on his suggestion for our final
response.
You were right about this correspondence, giving us
a better view of each other, and a chance to straighten out some conflicts
between us. And, incidentally, to find some similarities. I am somewhat discombobulated. Please look it up if it does not register in your limited gaming vocabulary. It will appear in the dictionary between dick and dork. I have no idea whether the character Link has ever used it in the correct context. This is all the result of something you said. Or perhaps many things that you said. It never ceases to surprise me that if a single word can sum up a moment, you feel the need to use twelve. I digress. It was your comment about wanting to keep
the tongue massaging to one person. I found that surprisingly…
touching. With you. Your reference to ‘lingering issues’ between
us has given me pause for thought. Actually it has given me sticky
boxers, as has your use of the words ‘intense negotiation’,
‘bodily fluids’ and ‘elephant-sized libido’. I’m still digressing. I can only say that I am looking forward a great deal
to this house move, in order to spend more time with you, and to enjoy
more intimacy. And then more again. And maybe we can spend some time
examining your Wii elbow in between the periods of intimacy. I’m
game. I hope to hear from you soon. Heero PS PPS
Anyway, enough of that noise. I read over your final version of the form, and I have to say, there are parts that smack more of Wufei’s sarcasm than either of ours to me, but hey, he’s supposed to be sensible, so I guess it’s okay. My gut reaction is to try and raise argument to at least some of this, but on the other hand, I can see the past few days of conversation shining through like the fridge light on a midnight snack run, so really, I got nothing. And hey, if anything, we could get the house on the grounds of being candidly honest. Best policy, right? Right. But business aside, Heero, are you okay? Your usual knack for being to the point kind of deteriorates around the part where you mention The Lush. And while part of me is starting to wonder how much of this was just an elaborate scheme on your part to score something really kinky out of me, most of me is a little more concerned with why the hell you’re drinking at all. And also how I’m gonna kill Q if I find out he gave you anything harder than a bitch beer. Though, perhaps, while you’re still struggling to recognize the letters on your keyboard, you could give me a quick run-through of these so-called ‘tools’ you keep for chastisement. I may require the information at a later date. Like maybe to celebrate our suspiciously busted A/C unit if we land the house. And for your information, Smarty Pants, Link hasn’t uttered more than a battlecry since he showed up on the gaming scene in 1986. Though if we’re talking about cartoon Link, that’s another matter entirely. But I’ll lecture you on video game history another time and just leave this little incident as yet another reason as to why I need the list requested above. Though I’ll take it as a compliment that the first d-words you think to associate with me are dick and dork; I’ll fill you in on my expertise in both fields when we have the discussion I just mentioned. At the same time, I’m becoming increasingly aware of the fact that you’re a master of drunk wisdom if you’re able to pick up on some of my not-so-joking implications beneath the obviously smooth and witty banter. If you have to know, since we seem to be on this thread about coming clean on fantasies, I might as well admit that the day I tripped over Trowa’s hockey stick and accidentally roller-bladed right into your mouth pretty much made that one-person policy clear to me. Not that you probably remember, because we were definitely still seventeen at the time and we both kinda went on from there pretending like it never happened. But then again, considering your plans for the shower curtain, maybe you do. Continuing on that thought, I know you don’t think I’m as much of a moron as you like to implicate (<-- three syllables, suck it), I’m going to jump out on a limb here and gather that this is the Heero Yuy way of telling me you like me enough that even the suggestive things that come out of my mouth in joke form are enough to keep your right hand busy. So if I were to bring the intense negotiation to your bedroom, would the clash of two elephant-sized libidos find us mutually rolling in more bodily fluid? Yes, I’m leering right now. And I’m naked. Haha, pick your drunk jaw up out of your lap. And uncross your legs. Seriously, how obvious could a guy be? By the way, I’m not really naked right now – but I would be in a heartbeat, if you wanted it. Really, anything you wanted, my ass included, I’d give it to you in a heartbeat, but I thought you knew that already. But less than honest? You really are a masochist, ‘Ro. Let the master of words assure you that’s not the proper selection. I think something more along the lines of ‘shy’, ‘reserved’, ‘nervous’ or ‘flustered’ might be more in the vein you’re after. Though if I think you using a shady questionnaire like this to test the waters was sly and underhanded, then yes, and I commend you for it. Though I feel like I might have to also grudgingly tip my hat to Wufei on this one, too; he seems to a constant source of skeezy ideas. As for the collar, would you happen to have a leash that goes with it and can I hold it? I’ve always wanted such a pretty pet – one I could cuddle with all hours of the day. Yeah, I’m leering again. And if my elbows hurt, I think the Wii will be the least of my troubles. By the way, I hope you’re still reading this, even if you’ve beaten the buzz by the time you actually get around to it. In vino veritas, they say (+5 intelligence points!), and I just wanted to let you know, that even if you feel like shit while you’re barfing your brains out afterwards, you shouldn’t regret confessing any of the things you did. I mean, I wasn’t sure I could do it myself, really, but I’m glad you opened the door on that. And if you doubt it, just know that I haven’t touched a drink since we were pounding back whiskey shots together over the weekend. Not fast enough, PS PPS Kind of like my heart.
I told him he obviously hadn’t seen the latest poll, declaring the #1 game was actually ‘Cuff, Collar and Chastise’. I offered to lend him some lacy panties (ones I haven’t worn, of course), and the use of my Gold membership card at the nearest ‘Belt and Braces’ adult outlet. He became rather abusive. I’ve rung him back, but he won’t answer. His
last words to me were all about taking out a restraining order against
me, and how Carpel Tunnel Syndrome can be brought on by any repetitive
whipping motion. But as to losing sleep over you… it’s been that way for a long time. Please don’t be concerned about me, and my potential slide into drunken dissolution. You see, it was only a couple of glasses. You have described ‘barfing’ so graphically that I can’t think an inebriated state is a worthwhile quid pro quo (go me, as you would say, +5 points too, and I believe I started about 37,243 ahead of you this year anyway). To be honest, I was rather disappointed in the effect
of alcohol; merely a softening of my vision and a quickening of my
heartbeat. I believe I may apply for you to be an additional cardholder on my Goldcard. Yes, I have chosen a rather convoluted ( <-- 4 syllables,
eat my dictionary) way of communicating all this to you. No, I couldn’t possibly regret confessing my feelings
to you, not when – as you so kindly point out yourself –
they’re all your fault. Of course, I’m no child, though you know that,
having seen my adult parts more times than my doctor, and most certainly
the college nurse. I’ll sign off now – there’s a knock at my door. Maybe you won’t get to see this last message after all. Maybe we’ll read it together, later on, after this evening’s entertainment. Much later on. After all, I have a crateful of rice cookies under the bed. Yours truly,
PPS
Still yours, PS PPS In fact, I think I won’t even worry, because now, I’m sitting on top of the world. With you. ~ * ~
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