Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. I don't have anything, only pocket lint...a paper clip and 3 neopets. Summary: PWP, humor, Duo and Quatra get drunk!
Always Friends
"What!?" Quatra screeched.
"You heard me! I bet you can't hold your liquor!" Duo said.
"I can to!"
"No you can't!"
"Can to!"
Heero, Trowa, and Wufei were staring blankly at the other two who were seated next to them in the kitchen. They watched as their fellow pilots argued.
"Prove it then!" Duo said.
"Fine I will!" Quatra shot back.
Quatra got up and opened the cabinet with shot glasses. He took two out and place one in front of Duo. He sat back in his seat next to Trowa and slammed the glass on the table. He grabbed the bottle of liquor and poured himself a glass. He handed the bottle to Duo, and waited as Duo poured himself a glass.
"Lets go!" Quatra said as he and Duo both took big gulps of the nasty smelling liquor. Both slammed the glasses hard on the table, making the others jump.
"Another." said Duo, as he poured another glass. He gave the bottle to Quatra, who also poured more in his glass.
Again, they both took big gulps. They slammed the glasses back on the table, making the others jump.
Duo let out a belch, making Quatra giggle. Trowa stared blankly at them. Wufei was mumbling something about injustice. Heero was busy glaring at Duo.
"Another." Duo said. They poured themselves more and took another big gulp, slamming the glasses down...making the others jump yet again.
Quatra started giggling for no apparent reason. Duo stared at him, before cracking up.
"Hah! Told ya!" Duo slurred.
Quatra giggled even more, covering his mouth, trying to control himself. The others were still staring at Quatra and Duo.
"Hey!" Quatra piped, "ya know *hic* that song...uh...*hic*" He paused to think. His eyes widened as he figured it out. He got up out of his seat and started to sing, " Dude looks like a lady! Dadum Dadum! Dude looks like a lady!"
Duo stared at him. He finally figured out what Quatra was getting to. He got up and glared at Quatra.
" I do not!" Duo yelled.
"Yes- huh! That song was made for you!" Quatra yelled back.
"Well! At least...at least...uh...at least I don't wear pink!!" Duo shot back.
Quatra glared at him. He stared at his pink shirt and then back at Duo.
"Well, at least I don't have long hair that reaches my butt!" Quatra yelled, almost falling back into the chair.
Duo grabbed his braid and held on to it for dear life.
"At least I don't play the violin!" Duo said, slamming his fist onto the table, making the others jump. They were very fidgety today.
"What's wrong with the violin!?" Quatra shrieked.
"It's girly! That's what's wrong!" Duo felt his head start throbbing.
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
Both Quatra and Duo stared at each other before collapsing onto the floor. Trowa sighed, Wufei grunted, and Heero glared at the lifeless form known as Duo.
The next morning, Trowa, Wufei, and Heero were seated at the kitchen table eating breakfast. Quatra was washing the dishes and humming to himself.
Duo walked into the kitchen, playing with the end of his braid. Quatra turned to Duo and smiled. Duo gave him a grin and walked over to him.
"Dude, nice shirt!" Duo said, smiling.
"Thanks Duo!" Quatra replied gleefully.
The others sweat-dropped as they saw Duo compliment Quatra's outfit.
"Duo, I'm so jealous! I wish had hair like you! It's so beautiful." Quatra beamed, playing with Duo's braid.
"Thanks Q-man! I only use the best for my hair." Duo replied.
They other pilots sweat-dropped even more. Now Duo was telling Quatra about the kind of shampoo and conditioner he used.
"Really?" Quatra asked.
"Yup! I can't stand split-ends. They are so annoying." Duo said.
Trowa blinked, Wufei felt dizzy, and Heero's eyebrow twitched.
Quatra and Duo jumped as they heard a loud bang and glasses clattering together. They turned and looked in the direction of the noise.
Their comrades had passed out, banging their heads hard on the table.
Quatra and Duo blinked. They looked at each other and shrugged, walking out of the kitchen, still talking about how to get rid of those pesky split-ends.