by DC Logan
Duo ducked his head back under the covers as something heavy in Trowa's possession smacked dully against the dividing wall shared with the neighboring bedroom.
Quatre was equally vocal, but hadn't escalated his temper to the point of hurling objects at his partner. He was content to scream at the top of his lungs.
"And he had fairly healthy ones," Duo mused as the fair-headed young man screeched at the idiot throwing books at him. "Aha," that explained the regular dull thudding noises that were escalating in number.
Duo rolled over in his bed and pulled his much-abused pillow out from under his head and reconfigured it soundly about the outside of his skull. It was the last in the string of futile attempts to insulate it from the unquiet war being waged in the next room.
Apparently Trowa had taken off again without telling Quatre what he was up to-or it was equally possible that the reverse was true-so difficult to tell when those two went at it.
He must have dozed off for a bit, because the next time he woke up, it was blessedly quiet-he could just make out murmured voices and the happy creak of bedsprings in the next room.
"Oh, hell."
Definitely time to get up now. He hadn't 'gotten any' in a long time, and the last thing he wanted to do was lie in bed and wonder how exactly Trowa and Quatre were making up to each other. He didn't begrudge them their mutual happiness, but there was no way in hell he wanted to be in earshot of what they were up to.
He peered out from under the rucked-up pile of bedding he was buried under and cased his room for clothing-clean or otherwise. He had a room to himself this time around. Both Heero and Wufei preferred the sterile life of aesthetic monks and had commandeered the two single beds in the third bedroom for themselves-they had made it clear that they would rather share quarters with each other than have to trip over Duo's, uh, "expanding spread of material." Looking at the room now, he was forced to admit they had a point. It was going to take him more than a few seconds to locate all the components of his outfit for the day. His possessions were scattered about the floor (the better to find them of course) and he had cleared random footfalls so he could navigate around the clutter. It worked for him. Usually.
Clothing wasn't a problem this morning, but he couldn't find his sidearm. He felt naked without it. It usually slept in a holster on the headboard, and he thought he'd put it there last night. And now he was at a loss to remember where he'd seen it last. He grabbed a half-eaten bar of chocolate from the stash by his bed and broke his fast while pondering the mystery.
Inspiration struck after his third bite. Heero had likely borrowed it. He was the only one skilled enough to get in and out of Duo's room without waking him-though it galled him to admit it. And it was a proven fact that Heero didn't feel the need to ask before borrowing items.
With newfound resolve, he stalked to the kitchen to confront his tormentor.