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Disclaimer: It's been said before, but I'll say it again.  I don't own them, people.  I borrow and play with them, but make no profit from this insanity.


Pairings: 3+2, (kind of past 5+2)





“Hi, Duo.  What can I do for you?’

 

The voice shouldn’t make me jerk but I do, stopping my paranoid vigil to stare at the woman across the desk for several seconds before I manage a smile.  “Needed to file some paperwork, Lanie.  You know how it is, everything has to be filled out in triplicate and filed in paper and e-forms.”

 

“Don’t forget having to sign everything in blood and swearing your loyalty to the empire,” she grins as I hand over the stack of papers in question, complete with a disk copy; I’ve been through this rigamarole before.  “I heard you had a few big cases this week; I actually expected you earlier in the week,” she tells me as she checks the pages.  Meeting my eyes, she gives me what’s supposed to be a stern expression, failing because of the smile, “You don’t usually wait so long.”

 

“It’s been a busy week, so I waited and did all of this at once.  I was hoping it would make things easier.”  I was also waiting until most of the staff was either going to be gone for the weekend or out on assignment.  Call me a coward if you want to, because that’s precisely what I am.

 

“Too bad you got here so late, almost everyone is already gone,” she sighs quietly.  “I’m fairly certain Agent Barton wanted to see you before he left.”

 

That’s what I was doing my best to avoid.  “Why do you think that?”

 

“He came by this morning to ask if you’d come in yet, and then again before he left just after lunch.  I asked if he wanted to leave a message in case you came, but he said he’d catch up to you later.”

 

I’ll have to thank him for that small favor…maybe. Some things are not meant to be written down.  “He left for the weekend?”

 

“Oh, no, he left on assignment with one of the teams.   I wouldn’t expect him to be back before tomorrow, at the earliest, barring some kind of miracle.  It must be something serious because he seemed more tense than usual, but keep that between us, okay?” she asks while tapping on the keyboard, entering my data into the main computer.

 

“You have my word,” I vow in a whisper, making her smile.  I don’t want to ask, but the next words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, “Was Trowa’s assignment dangerous?”

 

“No one tells me much, I’m just the data entry clerk, but I think it has to do with a turf war between two gangs.  Barton and some others were going to see if they could help the leaders negotiate some kind of treaty so innocent people would stop getting caught in their crossfire.”

 

I shouldn’t have asked.  What business is it of mine if he gets hurt or something?  He is not my responsibility and I really shouldn’t care whether or not he’s in the middle of something serious.  So what if I could have offered some insight into the mentality of a gang if I hadn’t been avoiding him; I know the way they think from firsthand knowledge, after all.  I might have been able to give him some good advice, but…well…coward.

 

It’s his damn fault, anyway.  I didn’t ask him to...best not go there; that’s a land-mine filled with mental bombs I don’t want to deal with, hence the total avoidance.

 

“Here you go, all your paperwork is complete,” Lanie hands me copies of everything, minus the disk copy I had included; that will remain in the central file where others can access it if they need the information.  “Don’t wait so long next time, okay?  You’re one of the few people I enjoy talking to.”  Her eyes suddenly move to something behind me, widening slightly, “I guess they were able to resolve that gang problem faster than expected.”  Oh, hell, she can’t mean…”It’s good to see you again, Agent Barton.  Do you have something for me?”

 

“Lancaster has our reports; he’ll file them on Monday.  I was going to ask if Duo had come by, but I see that he’s here,” Trowa states calmly as he comes to stand beside me.  “Have you finished your business?”

 

Act natural, act natural…say something, you idiot, “We just finished up,” I nod, refusing to look at him.  My shoes are very interesting at the moment, thanks much.  I didn’t realize how rough they are.  “I was just heading out.”  Why did I offer that bit of information?

 

“Good, I could use a ride home, if you aren’t too busy.”

 

Damn it all, there’s no way I can tell him no without a legitimate excuse without looking like a complete asshole and he knows it.  There’s nothing I can do but nod, “Sure thing; it’s no problem at all,” I don’t wince, so that’s a little victory for me.  Before walking away from the desk, I give Lanie a quick wave, wondering if she would understand if I sent her a ‘help me’ expression.  “See you sometime next week, Lanie.”

 

“You too, Duo.  Have a good weekend,” she’s distracted, frowning at Trowa.

 

I’m not about to look at him to see why she’s looking at him that way; I doubt I’d look at him the same so it doesn’t really matter.  Determined not to meet his eyes, I walk with my head down…yep, I really need some new shoes; mine have holes in them.  How did I not realize that sooner?  “Lanie said you were helping negotiate a treaty between some gangs.”  Damn it, why did I say anything?

 

“We were.  It would have been nice if I could have seen you beforehand; you probably would have had some good ideas about how to approach such a situation.”

 

“I would have told you not to get involved at all,” I snap at him, truly flustered by his lackadaisical attitude.  “There are some things you shouldn’t step into the middle of and a turf war is one of them.  You could have been hurt.”

 

“Were you worried about me?” he doesn’t sound like he’s amused or teasing, but quiet and serious.

 

Here’s one thing I’m absolutely certain of, “Of course I was worried about you.  You went into a situation you knew nothing about.  You’re lucky you didn’t get shot…or worse.”

 

He’s quiet as we walk out of the building, silent as a spector until he’s seated in the passenger seat of my car and I’m behind the wheel, my thumb lifting to push the ignition button.  “I wanted to talk to you, but you’ve been avoiding me for the last week, Duo.”

 

“I have not been avoiding you.”  I’m glad I don’t worry about lying the way I used to, because that would send me into a well of guilt otherwise.  Who am I kidding?  I feel that guilt, but I’m not going to show it.

 

“You won’t answer your cell phone or house phone, you haven’t called back about any of the messages I’ve left you, you won’t answer my emails and you didn’t file your paperwork until you believed I would already be gone for the week,” he sums up in a terse tone.  “What would you call that if not avoidance?”

 

I jab the ignition button with more force than necessary, “I’ve been busy.”

 

“You weren’t too busy to go out with Dashe on Saturday.”

 

How in the hell would he know that?  Is he keeping tabs on me or what?  “Why would you care who I go out with?”

 

“Do I really need to answer that?”

 

My thoughts are going a thousand miles a minute as I drive toward his house, a trip I could make in my sleep.  It’s a good thing I don’t have to focus on where I’m going, because driving is the last damn thing in my head.  If someone were to step out in front of me, I’d likely stop just because of reflexes, but I can’t be certain of anything while I try to sort out what he means.

 

His house is in sight when I finally form words, freaking out on the inside.  I haven’t been this uncertain since I started training as a Gundam pilot.  Not even living on the streets made me feel so damn nervous and unsure, “It was just dinner, not a date or anything like that.”

 

“Most people go to dinner while on a date.”

 

“It wasn’t like that.”  Damn, it looks like I’m going to have to explain a little better than that before he’ll let go of this.  “Dashe did me a favor a few weeks ago.  To pay him back, I took him to dinner while I got some extra information.”

 

“You paid him for information by buying him dinner?  That wasn’t his version of events.”

 

That son of a whore.  I might have to murder Dashe, depending on what his version was.  “What did he say?”

 

“That it was a date.”

 

“What the hell?  Why was he talking to you about it anyway?”

 

“He wasn’t talking to me, Duo; Dashe and I don’t have enough in common to speak more than five words unless it concerns you or your current cases.  He was talking to his partner and I overheard him saying that your date went very well and he was looking forward to going out with you again.”

 

“That rat bastard.”  Yep, I’m gonna kill Dashe at the first available opportunity.  Wonder if Trowa will help me hide the body?  “It was not a date; the only time we touched was when I shook his hand before leaving the restaurant.”

 

Pulling into Trowa’s driveway I stare down the small lawns, able to see my own house, the lights off and windows dark.  Not really appealing, but I can’t sit here all night and hope…what?  Do I hope that there will be a repeat of what happened the last time I was alone with him?

 

Hell, yeah, that’s what I want, but the idea scares the hell out of me.

 

He’s still in the passenger seat, not saying anything.  Mind reading is a skill I really need at times like this; he’s one of the few people I can’t figure out.  He hides his real emotions better than Heero, showing people only what they expect to see.

 

“It wasn’t a date, Trowa.  I don’t think of Dashe that way and never have.  He’s nothing more than a source of information I use sometimes, but I won’t be doing that anymore, I guess.  Too bad; he was helpful every once in a while.”

 

“What about me?”

 

These random, off the wall questions are giving me a headache.  “What about you?  Are you interested in Dashe?”  Ow, that thought hurts.

 

“Why haven’t you ever asked me for information?  I would have helped you if possible.”

 

Looking forward I stare at Trowa’s house, just as dark as mine, but for some reason his seems to be more welcoming.  Maybe that’s because I know that Trowa really only relaxes once he’s behind that door and is able to shut out the rest of the world.  “I never considered it; Dashe is a local, from this area.  He knows where to get information on local criminals and we don’t, not here.  Neither of us has been here long enough to have that kind of knowledge or those connections.”

 

“That’s why you asked Dashe, because of his connections?”

 

“I never asked him.  He came to me.”  I didn’t think much of it at the time, but this makes me wonder what Dashe was really up to.  He’s not well-liked by the local force or any of the agents he has to work with.  Only his partner puts up with him, yet no one knows why; Spellman could do a lot better and has a lot of potential.

 

“That didn’t strike you as odd?”

 

“Of course it did, but the info he gave me was spot-on and very helpful in the case I was working at the time.  Once in a while the lead wouldn’t pan out, but…”  Did those leads not pan out or was I given false information?  A slow and painful death is looming large for Dashe.  “Why the third degree?  If you want him, go for it; he’s all yours.”  I said that without hissing like a wet cat…but it was a close thing.

 

“That’s not…damn it, will you look at me?  This is not easy when all I can see is your profile or the back of your head.”

 

Whoa, Trowa sounds…not mad, but upset and a whole lot frustrated.  Turning my ass on the seat, I face him, nearly getting lost in those amazing eyes of his.  “Is that better?”

 

“Not at all,” his voice is soft and stunned.  “Duo, what have you done to me?”

 

“Gave you a ride home.”  He’s killing me here.  His face is flushed and his eyes are staring at my mouth.   “Trowa, what is all this?”

 

He’s moving and his mouth is on mine and oh, hell, I’m burning up.  I swore to myself that if this happened again, I would put a stop to it and demand some answers, but that ain’t gonna happen, not now.  Just like last time, I respond instantly, meeting his probing tongue and he must not be sleeping much because I can taste the coffee he’s been drinking and it’s better and more exhilarating than any coffee I’ve ever had and he’s massaging the top of my mouth with his tongue.  It should be illegal for someone to be so good at what should be a simple act of kissing, but it isn’t simple at all.  It’s teasing caresses and firm strokes and stealing my breath and possibly my sanity while my heart pounds against my ribs.  I could die now and be happy and dear god his hand is under my shirt…total meltdown.

 

His other hand is on my hip, squeezing me just enough to let me know it’s there, but not enough to distract me from what he’s doing with his other hand and mouth.  It’s embarrassing, but I know that if we weren’t in the confines of my car, I’d be on top of him, in search for more contact.  He could be on top of me too; I’d be fine with either as long as we were naked and…whoa, I can’t keep thinking like that.  Put the brakes on this before it gets worse, or better, depending on your point of view.

 

I’m going to stop this…in a minute or two…as long as he doesn’t do that thing with his tongue on the roof of my mouth…yeah, that’s the one.

 

Finally I get a hand to his chest, feeling his heart is beating as fast and hard as mine is.  Pushing him away is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, not because I want him to stop and he’s stronger than me, but because I really don’t want him to stop. “Back up a damn second,” is what I breathe, but it comes out in a breathy sigh.  Pull it together, man.  “We were talking about Dashe.  I thought you were asking about him because you want him.”

 

“You’ve got it all wrong, but this isn’t something I want to discuss while sitting in your car where anyone can see us.  Come inside with me,” his hand is still on my hip, the heat burning through my pants and seeping into my skin.  “Come inside and I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

 

I need to say no; I’m going to say no.  “You’ll tell me everything?”  Maybe I’m not going to say no.  I really want to hear what he’s going to say and there’s a small part of me that doesn’t care what he has to say as long as he uses his mouth on me again…okay, a big part of me…or all of me. “Like what?”

 

“Everything I should have told you before.  Please, Duo, give me a chance to explain everything.”

 

If he says my name like that again, in that low tone, I’d likely follow him into the burning flames of hell.  His voice alone is a seduction and when you add it to the rest of him…damn, I’m in trouble.  “Okay.”  Good god, he smiled at me.  Not at something funny I said or because of someone else, but he just gave me an honestly happy smile that sends shivers up my spine because he’s pleased.  That has to be the sexiest fucking smile I’ve ever seen in my life.

 

Keeping a safe distance between us seems wise as I follow him up the walk and onto the wraparound porch, passing when he pushes the door open and inhaling deeply.  His scent is like nothing else, completely unique yet so much a part of him…it’s pure masculinity with a touch of raw sensuality that I’ve noticed before…it’s impossible to define, but it defines him.

 

Behind me the door shuts as a light comes on.  You would think Trowa would be one of those guys that has very little decorating skills and has to put each and every little thing in its place, but you would be very wrong.  His furniture is comfortable, giving the whole living room the impression of a larger space than it really is and I can see some shoes in the floor and a shirt tossed across the back of a chair, like he pulled it off and threw it there after a hard day of work. 

 

Turning to look at him I have to wonder if this was a good idea or not.  He’s leaning against the door and staring at me in a way that makes me think of a lion sizing up his prey.  Not the most comforting thought to have, but it’s also exciting to feel stalked by such an intimidating creature.  “What did you want to tell me?”

 

He moves fast, grabbing my arms and spinning us in one fluid motion, pressing my back against the door as he kisses me again.  I never thought that being kissed so forcefully would be a turn-on, but I’m not bothered by it at all.  In fact, my hands are on his hips, putting our bodies together for a long, blissful moment.  This is getting dangerous.

 

Jerking my head away, I turn so I can avoid his mouth.  I can’t think of a single moment in my life when I’ve wanted something so badly and been terrified of the same thing at the same time.  “You’ve got to stop doing that.”

 

“You don’t like it?”

 

Sure, I could lie, but considering that my hands are anchored on his hips and my erection is pressed into his thigh…not happening.  “I like it fine, but I don’t understand where this is coming from. Before last week you had never shown any attraction to me at all and you sure as hell didn’t act like you wanted to put your tongue down my throat.”

 

“It’s not my fault that you haven’t noticed before, Duo.”

 

“How am I supposed to notice something when you’ve never acted any different toward me?”

 

Leaning close, he puts his head on my shoulder and sighs, breath ghosting over my neck and making me shiver.  I really need to know what’s going on in his head.  “It could be that I’ve never acted any different because the attraction to you is one of the few things in my life that’s been a constant since the war.  There have been different jobs, homes, and new friends, but nothing has ever changed about the way I look at you and want.”

 

It’s hard to talk when there’s no air in your lungs, but apparently I can do it.  “What are you saying?”  He can’t mean what I think he means; it’s an insane thought.  Who in their right mind would have a crush on someone without revealing it for so long?

 

“I’m saying that I’ve wanted you since the war.  I can’t say it was from the first time I saw you, but it didn’t take long for me to be attracted to you,” he says quietly in my ear, giving me goose bumps.  He really does have a voice like liquid sex.  “I don’t know what attracted me first, if it was your love for life, your body, your general attitude, your hair, or your eyes, but I was…and am... fascinated by all of it.  When I discovered you were a capable pilot that made things even worse than before.”

 

“You realize you were a complete asshole to me at times, right?” In recent years we’ve become friends, but before that his attitude had been cool at best and dismissive at worst.

 

His head tilts so his lips are touching my neck, making my eyes cross when he speaks.  Does he have any idea what he’s doing to me?  “Before meeting you I had been attracted to a few others, but it was only because of their looks. I didn’t understand why I felt so strongly toward you, other than you being attractive, but that alone didn’t explain why my heart would beat faster or I’d become breathless when you were close.  I was…unprepared for such strong feelings because I hadn’t been around many people and none had caused me to feel so much like…”

 

“Like a hormonal and horny teenager?”

 

“Exactly,” he chuckles quietly, the sound a rumble I can feel in his chest, pressed to me.  “I had been attracted before, but there had never been something or someone in my life that I had really wanted.  I had no resistance against those feelings and no defenses to protect myself, so I did the only thing I could; I did everything possible to keep a distance between us, emotionally and physically.  I assumed that if I acted like a jerk toward you, you would stay away from me.  That was before I learned a bit more about you.”

 

It’s not real hard to figure out what he means by that.  I’m a very contrary person and if someone seems determined not to like me, I’ll work harder to be likeable.  In simple terms, I put myself in their way and am as nice and helpful as possible as often as possible.  “If you had been nicer to me I would have left you alone.”

 

“I know that now, but I can’t honestly say that I would have done things different had I known.  Each time I was harsh or insulting you were there with a smile and a compliment.  I needed those times to come to terms with how I felt until I was able to fully understand and accept what I felt.”

 

“So without all the words and long explanation, you were mean because you liked me?”

 

“Something like that,” he laughs again before leaning away to look at me, his eyes serious and he touches my face with gentle fingers.  No one has ever looked at me this way, or touched me so carefully, like I’m going to break.  “When I did accept how I felt, I grew worried that if I was nice to you, you wouldn’t speak to me anymore.  As long as I was mean you went out of your way to change my opinion.  If I was nice, you would no longer have a reason to pay any attention to me.”

 

“That makes total sense.”

 

There’s that sexy-ass smile again.  “It did at the time.  Quatre finally talked some sense into me when he realized I was being a jerk to you, and I realized that being nice wouldn’t drive you away, so I began being friendly a little at a time.  I was relieved when you didn’t avoid me and happy when you began to seek me out to talk to when we were all together.”

 

“We have a lot in common, Trowa.”

 

“It wasn’t only that; you would search me out to ask my opinion on something or how I felt about something else.  I liked being the person you would go to for advice, most of the time.  There were times when I wanted to poke out my own eyes or stuff my ears full of cotton, but I didn’t.”

 

“Why would you…oh…”  I bet it was so much fun having to listen to me when I was asking him for advice on what to do on dates or when I asked his opinion of whoever I was dating at the time.  “Sorry, but you could have said they were all assholes.”

 

“I wasn’t going to lie to you.  They were mostly nice and they made you happy, for a little while.  There was no reason for you to be miserable and alone because I was a coward.”

 

“I wish you would have said something, Trowa.”  He’s still touching my face with the tips of his fingers, so light I can barely feel it.  “After all this time, why say something now?”

 

I’ve never seen Trowa blush before; it’s kind of cute.  “A mutual friend of ours realized how I felt and prompted me to speak to you.”

 

“Quatre?” It’s a logical guess; Quatre always seems to understand how we feel, often before we do.

 

“Wufei.”

 

“Wufei was the one that asked me if I would be willing to work with you last week; he said you needed help during a surveillance assignment.”

 

“That was true…and had the added benefit of putting us alone together for an extended period of time.  He wanted to know if his hunch was correct.”

 

I’m almost afraid to ask, “What hunch?”

 

“He thought I felt something for you.  I never told him, Duo; he already knew.  I didn’t discuss what happened between us afterward, but I guess he was watching us somehow.  He was…very pleased with himself when he came to see me on Tuesday.  Wufei confronted me about it and we argued.  I agreed to tell you how I felt when he threatened to ask you out.”

 

That might have turned out very badly.  Wufei and I have never dated, but we did come close before I went back to L2 for a while.  Hilde had needed some help and I had answered the call, leaving any blossoming relationship on hold.  When I had come back, I had never pursued the matter again, but I don’t know how I would have reacted if he had asked.

 

The look on Trowa’s face says he realizes how that could have turned out.  I don’t want to lie and say I would have turned Wufei down, but I can’t say for certain that I would have agreed, either.  “Nothing ever happened between me and Wufei,” is what I tell him instead, and that is the full truth.

 

“You both wanted it to.” He isn’t condemning me or accusing me of anything.  It’s a factual statement and nothing more or less.

 

“Back then, yeah, but that was a long time ago.  I feel it’s necessary to add that neither of us pursued it later.  That should mean something.”  It does mean a lot and it’s more telling that I never really felt bad about the missed opportunity.  I’m not going to say all of that; Trowa’s a smart guy and has probably thought about it already.

 

There’s no way that’s all the reasons that Trowa finally decided to talk to me.  I know him pretty well, enough to know that if he’s decided against doing something, no threat is going to make him do it.  Sure, Wufei might have made good on his threat, but it’s highly unlikely after so long so there had to be something else.  “What else happened?”

 

“I overheard Dashe saying that he needed to call you,” he admits after a short pause.  He probably knows I’m going to ask what was said; he knows me pretty well, too.  “I decided I didn’t want to have to listen to you talk about him or have to give you advice if I had a chance of going out with you.  Wufei asking you to sit surveillance with me was set up by him; I never asked him to do so.”

 

“You didn’t plan to kiss me?”

 

His sigh is heavy, but I don’t think it’s because he’s tired; Trowa has a lot of stamina…there’s something to think about.  I honestly believe it’s because he’s resigned himself to something, although I don’t know what that something is just yet.  “It wasn’t planned.  I didn’t know I was going to do it until I was already kissing you.  I was going to ask you to dinner or coffee or breakfast or…something, but you ran out of the van and wouldn’t answer your phone later.  You’ve been avoiding me since then.”

 

“This may be something you’re used to, but for me it came out of nowhere.  I never even suspected you looked at me that way, Trowa.”

 

“I apologize, Duo,” he says as he drops his hand and steps back.  What the hell is he thinking now?  “I shouldn’t have assumed you would have any interest in me.”

 

Ah, that’s what he’s thinking.  Good thing I have my fingers in his belt loop, preventing him from going too far.  I had a feeling something like this would happen at some point; Trowa often assumes the worst.  “Just because I was surprised doesn’t mean I’m not interested, or haven’t thought about you in that way before.  What exactly do you want from me?”

 

His surprise is clear, but he stops trying to move away and that’s a relief.  I don’t want to have to chase him around his own house like I’m some kind of crazy stalker.  “First, I suppose I need to know if you can regard me as more than a friend.”

 

Keeping one hand anchored so he doesn’t run, I use the other to grab the front of his shirt and pull him to me, sealing my mouth over his as soon as he’s close enough.  Like me, his response is instant and in seconds I’m pushed against the door again, his body plastered to mine; there isn’t enough space between us to fit a piece of paper through. One thing is for damn sure: if they ever make kissing a weapon, Trowa’s gonna have to register as deadly.

 

It’s all I can do not to wrap my legs around his waist and climb him, but I do refrain, sighing when he finally breaks the kiss.  “Does that answer that question?”

 

“A little.”

 

He’s still uncertain; it’s strange to see him like this.  I’ve never seen him unsure of anything before.  I could lie and reassure him, but he’d see through my bullshit.  “I can’t make any promises, Trowa.  This is all new to me.  I can’t guarantee that everything will work out, but I am not against the idea of giving it a try and seeing what happens.  We could prove to be incompatible even though we’re good friends…or we could prove to be a perfect match.”  I’m starting to be more convinced about the latter, but I refuse to curse this by saying so aloud. 

 

He swallows so hard that I can hear it.  Damn, he’s nervous as hell.  I should be, but the notion of being more than friends with him is…exciting.  It is something I thought about once or twice in the past, but as an abstract notion or random musing, never seriously.

 

Of course I thought about it a bit more after he kissed me last week, yet never actually considered it a possibility, believing he had kissed me spontaneously and without reason.  Yeah, this is all pretty damn new to me…and I like the hell out of it so far.  Trowa isn’t like anyone else I’ve dated before, or even met, not even Wufei.  Wufei isn’t really a mystery; he’ll tell you exactly what he’s thinking, even when you don’t want to know.  Trowa, on the other hand, is mysterious; I never can tell what he’s thinking and he can surprise the hell out of me.

 

“Why are you thinking so hard?  Have you reconsidered?”

 

“No, I haven’t reconsidered.”  There’s that uncertainty, those rare nerves, again.  On most people it would be annoying, but on Trowa it’s endearing and not likely to last long.  “I was thinking about you.”

 

“Is that a good or bad thing?”

 

I don’t think he’s going anywhere so I finally loosen my grip on his belt loop, only to grasp his hip and squeeze lightly, “I have to say it’s a good thing.”

 

“Anything I should know?” He’s smiling now, his confidence back.  I knew it wouldn't take long.

 

“Not really, just that this could be extremely interesting.  I do have one question.”

 

“What question is that?”

 

I don’t think he’s very concerned about what I want to ask because he’s leaning close to me and nibbling on my earlobe.  Fuck, he has a talented mouth. “How did you learn to be such an amazing kisser?”

 

His chuckle is low, throaty, and sexy as hell.  Yep, definitely interesting. “Am I really?”

 

“Like you didn’t already know.”

 

“I wasn’t entirely sure I would be.  It depends on your partner, after all.  I was sure I would need more work, but if you aren’t willing to help me practice…” he leaves the rest of the challenge/request unspoken, but I don’t always need shit spelled out for me in huge neon letters.

 

“I believe I can make the sacrifice, as long as it’s to help you improve, but what do I get out of it?” I’m joking, but he stops and looks at me with narrowed eyes.

 

“I suppose that since you’re willing to help me practice, it’s only fair for me to offer something in return,” he says after a moment, voice low and full of promise.  “What would be adequate compensation?”  A smirk spreads across his lips and I’m fairly sure my tongue is hanging out and I’m panting like a dog.  How did he get so damn sexy so fast…or was he always this sexy and I just refused to see it?  “I could start by offering you dinner,” he suggests.  “Afterwards, we could watch a movie while you help me practice.”

 

My throat is dry as the dust on Mars.  In just a few sentences, he’s made me lose my breath and saliva all at once.  I have to swallow several times before giving a slow nod, “I think that would be a fair trade.”

 

“That’s only the beginning.  I’m going to require a lot of practice, Duo.”

 

“I’m sure we can work out a deal that’s acceptable for both of us.”

 

He’s still smiling as he kisses me again, taking what little breath I had forced into my lungs.  Oh, hell yes.  This is most definitely going to be an interesting situation.

 

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