
|
"The Three of Us "Written By: Miss Murdered Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters - am just borrowing to torment for my amusement Rating: NC 17 Warnings: m/m sex of varying degrees of smuttiness,
two dudes, three dudes, masturbation, voyeurism as well as angst,
sap and bad language Pairings: 1x2x3 but all combinations of that in
pairings as well as in a threesome context. Summary: An ongoing series of short drabbles exploring the dynamics and complexity of the 1x2x3 relationship. A/N: This is an ongoing series of short drabbles
that is my attempt to explore how the 1x2x3 relationship would work.
I will update semiregularly with three chapters at a time told
from Duo, Trowa and then Heero's perspectives. Some will be feelsy/angsty,
some will be porny, and some will be sappy. They have no chronology or order apart from the
fact it is set postEW. Beta'd by ELLE "The Three of Us " Dinner Out of all of them, people probably thought that Duo
was the one who would be least able to cook. He'd been raised on the
streets, lived among the Sweepers and then became a Gundam pilot so
really he'd never had opportunity to acquire that skill. Yet it was
something he decided to learn post-war - refusing to live his life
eating shitty microwave meals and takeout. It was Friday night and for once all three schedules
had collided and that meant none of them were needed into work the
following morning so Duo was cooking with two very unhelpful assistants. Heero didn't really believe in food beyond its nutritional
benefits - some of his life under Dr. J's tutelage making itself apparent
so he would survive off energy gels and power bars if he could. Duo
didn't let him. Trowa was a little better but had no interest in actually
cooking so when Duo instructed them they both seemed to be having
some silent conversation of disbelief and annoyance. He was making something simple - a tomato based pasta
sauce as really, they couldn't fuck it up if they helped. Apparently,
they could. Chopping, Duo assumed, was an easy task. Considering
both of them had wielded knives on numerous occasions and were well
skilled in knife combat. The mutilated onions, garlic and vegetables
attested to the fact that knowing how to gut someone and sever a carotid
artery did not mean that the skill was transferable. Or not for them. Duo was getting irritated, opened the wine that was
meant to be for the sauce and drank a glass entirely too quickly. "You both followed orders. Hell, 'Ro, you goddamn
self-destructed on orders. How can you not just do what I damn
tell you?" He was frustrated and he glared at both of them. "Do you want to do it by yourself?" Heero
asked and Duo shrugged. "Yeah, get outta here." Annoyed but happier being left to do the task alone,
Duo drank half another glass of wine and tried to salvage what had
been cut up by his lovers. He paused though as heard the low rumbling voices of
Heero and Trowa talking. "If we're terrible he'll never ask us to help again
" It was Heero he heard, unable to hear Trowa's muffled
reply and he glared in their direction through the walls. He really
didn't appreciate being ganged up on unless it led to sex, so he drank
the rest of his wine, letting a Shinigami grin cross his face. There
was one thing they'd learn soon enough - never piss off Duo Maxwell. |