Duo peered around the corner, jiggling impatiently from foot to foot.
"Are they ready yet?"
Heero flicked him an exasperated glance. "No. Go away."
Duo vanished, but the tip of his braid still showed around the corner, revealing his silent presence.
Heero eyed the braid with clearly evil thoughts.
Kurama glanced over at the Japanese pilot and smiled. New couples were so cute.
"They'll be ready in about ten minutes, Duo," he called out.
The American pilot stuck his head around the corner again, eyes bright. "Really?"
Heero growled and started forward. Duo vanished again with a little 'eep!'
Kurama grinned and turned back to the kitchen counter to hide his expression from his companion. Duo and Heero had gotten together very recently it had started in this very kitchen with a game of the infamous strip poker, and more than a few bottles of sake and had apparently skipped the intolerably, vomitously cute phase of their relationship in favor of a more Heero-esque take on married cynicism. But the spare bedroom door had been securely shut and bolted every night for the past two weeks, so apparently something was going right.
Heero turned back to the counter with a grim, determined expression. "What else?"
The redhaired half-youko frowned down at the open cookbook and sweatdropped. "Heero...couldn't you have picked an easier recipe?" Like...boiling water, maybe?
"I am going to learn to cook," the brown-haired pilot intoned firmly, eyes boring into Kurama's. "I might as well start at the top and work my way down."
Kurama repressed a sniggering bedroom reference to Duo and blinked. He had a pretty good idea that the recipe Heero had picked was probably the American pilot's favorite. "Well Heero, we're going to have to talk about your literal interpretation of the recipe."
They both stared at the mixing bowl, where Heero had lumped together four whole eggs, two unwrapped sticks of butter, a cup and a half of flour including the plastic measuring cups and an ungodly amount of salt (probably Heero's estimation of a pinch or dash).
"What's wrong with it?" Heero asked calmly.
Kurama facevaulted. "Uh..."
Ariodh peered around the kitchen corner. "I'm hungry!" She stamped her foot to emphasize this earth-shaking fact.
Kurama looked at her gratefully. "Oh, good. Um, I mean...Ariodh, why don't you order us some pizzas?"
"Pizza!" Ariodh crowed gleefully, leaping for the phone and just barely succeeding in not tearing it off the wall in her excitement.
Kurama turned back to Heero. "Well...you're supposed to crack the eggshells and throw that part away, for starters," he pointed out helpfully.
Heero frowned. "Why didn't they say so?"
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Wufei declared adamantly.
"C'mon, it'll be fun!" Quatre wheedled, blue eyes bright.
"We are not playing strip anything, Quatre, and I want to make that perfectly clear!" Wufei said, his tone edged with hostility.
"Why not?" Duo joined the fray, grinning from ear to ear. "The last strip poker game I played had really awesome results..." He fluttered his eyelashes in the direction of the kitchen.
Wufei sweatdropped. "Unlike you perverts!" he began hotly.
"Hold it," Trowa interrupted, his visible green eye glaring at Wufei. The other was hidden by the sweep of bangs that spilled over his forehead. "Watch what you call Quatre."
"Yeah!" Quatre added, sticking his tongue out. "Watch what you call me around Trowa!" He leaned back against the lanky pilot of Heavyarms, who put an arm around him. Quatre's cheeks were slightly flushed.
"Quatre, how much have you had to drink?" Wufei asked suspiciously.
The golden-haired pilot just giggled and snuggled closer to Trowa.
"I ordered pizza!" Ariodh announced happily, bouncing into the room. "Ne, Hiei, Kurama said to go find the plastic. What's the plastic? And why do we need it?"
A short, dark figure pushed himself off of the windowsill, one hand loosely wrapped around a bottle of sake. Hiei was not the most social of people and having a large gathering in Kurama's apartment was always easier with a little company of a different sort.
"I'll get it," he muttered, setting the bottle down. "He means that little rectangle thing we used last week to buy the automatic ice cream machine."
Quatre looked fascinated. "I don't have one of those."
"Yet," Trowa added knowingly.
Ariodh plopped herself down in Duo's lap, who looked startled, then put his arms around her. "We need a drinking game," she decided, "to get this party started."
"Aren't you drunk enough?" Wufei asked bluntly.
She peered at him. "Which one of you said that? Die." Then she giggled. "Just kidding. Hey! It's not enough until we're so smashed we... uh..." She wrinkled her face, trying to think of a good measure to judge by.
"Until we can't recognize our boyfriend, and tumble in bed with the wrong person?" Quatre suggested.
"Oi," Trowa protested mildly.
"Uhm... does that apply to all of us?" Ariodh frowned in concentration. "Hey!! I'm a girl!"
"You are?" Quatre blinked innocently. "Oh yeah. Sorry."
Hiei re-entered the room with his customary scowl, holding up a small rectangular piece of...
"Plastic!" Ariodh exclaimed, jumping off Duo's lap, who looked relieved, and she snatched it from Hiei. Then she grabbed his arm. "Ne, Hiei, Quatre just insulted me. Beat him up."
"I didn't!" Quatre exclaimed.
"Do it yourself," Hiei growled, shaking her off and wandering towards the kitchen.
Duo trailed along almost absently behind him, before Ariodh could glomp onto him the way she normally did with Hiei or Kurama. Besides, he wanted to see what Heero was doing. And if the stuff was ready yet.
"Ne...Trowa, can you make me another drink?" Quatre wheedled, rubbing a hand over the brown-banged pilot's thigh.
Trowa looked at him measuringly. "Only if you can stand up without falling."
"No fair!" Quatre complained, but heaved himself to his feet and stood very carefully. He turned, gave Trowa a sunny, truimphant smile and promptly collapsed, legs folding underneath him.
Trowa regarded him steadily.
"I meant to do that," Quatre insisted, blinking up at him.
Trowa bent and helped him back up onto the couch.
Quatre blinked hopefully at him.
"Not a chance," Trowa informed him.
Ariodh was prowling around looking for someone to cuddle with. Wufei eyed her warily, hands twitching for a weapon to keep her at bay. At that moment, lucky for the Chinese pilot, Hiei returned and Ariodh latched her arms around his neck gleefully.
"Wufei," Quatre began, tone wheedling, "would you make me a..."
"No," the Chinese pilot replied firmly.
"You don't even know what I'm asking for!" Quatre said, frustrated.
"Ow ow ow ow ow!"
They turned to stare at Duo, leaping out of the kitchen like a skinned cat and making a mad dash into the living room, braid flying out behind him. Heero stepped into the hallway, wielding a spoon with a crazed look in his eyes.
"...and STAY out, Duo!" Heero pronounced, marching back into the kitchen.
Wufei gaped, then settled back into his chair, disgruntled. He did NOT like being here but he'd had no choice in the matter.
"I know what we should do!" Quatre crowed happily, the idea provoked by Ariodh's earlier suggestion for a game having finally percolated up through the alcohol-soaked layers of his brain.
"NO!" Wufei exclaimed instantly, remembering the last game Quatre had suggested they play while they were drunk. "We are NOT playing who can make Wufei's nose bleed!"
Hiei and Ariodh sweatdropped.
"Of course not, silly!" Quatre giggled. "We already played that once, remember?"
"I remember," Duo replied with a dreamy smile.
"Then what?" Wufei prompted, suspicious.
Then... "What's that?" from Ariodh.
Duo perked up. "I know what that is!"
Wufei still looked suspicious. "Isn't that the game those fanfic writers were playing with...? 'Instant Yaoi,' or something like that?" He managed to look outraged, affronted, and stiffly righteous all at once. "I will NOT participate in any drunken yaoi games with you perverts..."
"Oi!" Heero popped into the hallway again, still brandishing the wooden spoon, his eyes chilling. "Watch what you call Duo!" He disappeared back into the kitchen.
"Yeah!" Duo looked pleased. "Watch what..." He facevaulted. "HEY!"
"So how do you play this game?" Ariodh asked, intrigued, latching on to Hiei to drag him towards another couch. Hiei glared and resisted.
"Well...uh...I guess it IS kinda like 'Instant Yaoi'... only that's more a choose-your-own- adventure type," Quatre began, scratching his head. He peered at Wufei, then brightened. "Hey! You know, you were in..."
Trowa instantly clapped a hand over the blond boy's mouth.
"In what?" Wufei demanded.
"Um...a chorus line? Ne, Wufei?" Duo finished lamely, eyes saucer-sized.
Wufei choked with outrage. "I most certainly was not! My strength is far too great for such a wicked, ridiculous profession! What an insult!"
Ariodh tugged on Hiei's arm. Hiei quirked his lip at her. Ariodh batted wide sparkling bambi eyes at him and pulled again, harder. Hiei turned SD and growled a squeaky little growl.
"Kawaii!" Ariodh exclaimed happily, scooping up a double-armful of squirming chibi-Hiei and hauling him over to the couch.
Duo got up and raced for the kitchen. "I'll ask Kurama for a paper and pen."
"How do we make this a drinking game?" Ariodh wondered, pausing in her petting of the purring chibi-Hiei, who was too buzzed to resist anymore.
"Uh..." Quatre stopped short, obviously reaching his pickled limits. He looked frantically to Trowa for a clue.
"I've never played this game before," Trowa replied unhelpfully.
"I refuse to play!" Wufei stated hotly. "It involves drinking and yaoi... two things which should never go together! It can only lead to trouble!"
A pillow smacked him in the face and he began to sputter.
Ariodh grinned and turned her attention back to SD-Hiei, lolling in her lap like a happy kitten. "Everyone else likes yaoi, silly."
"I got it!" Duo exclaimed, limping back from the kitchen rubbing his bottom ruefully. He held up a pad of paper and a pen triumphantly.
Ariodh smirked. "Sure looks like you got it."
"With the spoon!" Duo clarified hastily, still rubbing his bum, blushing bright red now.
Ariodh and Quatre giggled madly.
"So how're we going to do this?" Ariodh demanded.
Wufei folded his arms and glowered from his corner.
"Will he loosen up once we get liquor in him?" Ariodh asked curiously.
"Nope!" Quatre said happily. "Just gets more violent."
"And spouts off about justice," Trowa added.
"Heero! NO! DON'T!!" They suddenly heard Kurama's anguished wail from the kitchen, then sprang to their feet as a tremendous explosion rocked the apartment, and two bodies came tumbling head-over-heels into the hallway.
"WHAT!?" Hiei and Ariodh dashed over as a huge cloud of smoke mushroomed from the kitchen.
"My kitchen!" the redhaired kitsune wailed, observing the wreckage.
Heero's soot-smudged face bore a peculiar look of satisfaction as he regarded the smoking ruins. Duo checked him over for wounds and he irritably pushed the brown-braided pilot away.
Within the smoking, charcoaled kitchen, an eggtimer went off.
"The Jello's ready," Kurama said feebly. Ariodh was petting him comfortingly.
"Finally!" Duo observed. "Jello shots, anyone?"
"Everyone ready?" Duo asked cheerfully, setting down a precariously loaded tray of Jello shots. Ariodh set down the cartons of pizza, clutching two of them possessively to her chest.
"I am not playing!" Wufei was still insisting.
They ignored him.
"Oi, Heero - what were you trying to make?" Trowa asked curiously.
". . . . ."
"Yeah, what were you making?" Ariodh chimed in, peering at Heero, who was still soot-smudged.
Heero glared. ". . .chocolate chip cookies," he mumbled.
"Really?" Duo's face lit up. "Those're my favorite!"
Heero's eyes barely flicked in his direction. ". . .I know."
"Heero! That's great!!" Duo gushed, glomping onto him.
"Ack! Duo, get off me!" Heero exclaimed, shoving.
"My kitchen...my kitchen..." the shell-shocked Kurama was still mumbling. Hiei sat next to him in the loveseat, and Ariodh on the other side, scarfing pizza. He was holding on to the fire demon for dear life, as if he knew Hiei would bolt the instant he loosened his grip.
Well, Hiei would.
"Let's play, already," Quatre exclaimed impatiently, wriggling in Trowa's lap.
"Rule number one - " Ariodh began smiling widely at Wufei. "Anyone who doesn't play has to down a whole bottle of sake."
Wufei began to sputter incoherently. "That is unjust! I refuse!!"
"And if you won't drink the bottle we'll force it down you," Duo supported her. ". . .right, Heero?"
Heero nodded solemnly, fixing his steady gaze/glare on Wufei.
"Unjust! A mockery of justice!" Wufei ranted, springing to his feet and dancing with fury. "The whole lot of you!"
"What'll it be, Wufei?" Quatre blinked innocently. Then delivered the ultimatum. "Play or pay up!"
Wufei hesitated. He subsided into his chair, muttering something about punishment, violation of justice, and never forgiving.
Ariodh smirked. "He's not even drunk yet, and he's already ranting on about justice."
"Just wait," Trowa advised. "It gets better."
"Okay!" Duo exclaimed. "Let's play! Lessee -there are eight of us - twenty-four words...so..." He began to count on his fingers.
"Genius," Heero snorted. "Three words per person, three rounds total. How did you get in the Gundam piloting program?"
Duo snuggled against Heero. "I bribed the recruiting officer." He stretched to nibble Heero's ear and without changing expression the Japanese pilot punched him. Duo fell back into his own place on the coach, rubbing his nose and moaning.
"Are we going to play, or not?" Hiei growled challengingly.
"Wufei. Hurry up. It's your turn."
Wufei broke into a nervous sweat.
The previous round had gone pretty wildly, with Duo starting it off with the adjective "sweaty." Each participant contributed their word, then bolted a Jello shot. Wufei was under the gun - "sweaty," had been followed by Heero's tamer, yet still suggestive "nightfall," Hiei's chosen number of six that Ariodh and Quatre had immediately turned into a chorus of "sex! Sex!" to which he'd responded with a scowl. Kurama had followed that up with the decidedly tepid "kitchens," obviously still stuck on his loss. Then Ariodh had picked up with "sexy," followed by Trowa's either-way "blastoff." What made Wufei look like he had a bad case of airsickness, though, was Quatre's immediate seizing upon "orgy" for his noun.
"Go, Wufei," Heero said inexorably.
Impishly Ariodh jiggled a bottle of sake in one hand, waving it in Wufei's direction between bites of pizza.
"Fight!" Wufei blurted out, then picked up his grape Jello shot and gulped it down quickly before anyone could object.
Duo scribbled it down.
"Fight?" Quatre looked disappointed.
"How typical," Duo mourned. "Wufei, why not be a little more - flamboyant?"
"I refuse to cater to these -these yaoi trends!" Wufei fumed, then absently sucked the last bits of Jello out of the shotglass.
"My turn!" Duo beamed. "Hmm...an adverb..." He scratched his head.
"Don't tell me you don't know?" Heero asked dryly.
"Hmm... how 'bout 'throatily'?"
"Sounds good," Kurama assured him.
Duo picked up his shot and tossed it back.
"Destroyed," Heero replied promptly.
"Uh...okay," Duo blinked at his psychotic lover as he swiftly and efficiently knocked back his lime Jello shot.
"Hiei - an event."
Hiei blinked. "Hn. Wufei already took 'fight.'"
"C'mon! Something racy!" Ariodh urged. She munched on another wedge of pizza.
Hiei's ruby eyes flicked over to her. "Tournament."
Ariodh facevaulted. "Or not."
"Kurama - adjective!"
Everyone looked expectantly at the youko, waiting for him to say something kitchen-related.
He looked up from where he was nuzzling Hiei's ear. "Passionate," he leered.
"What, were you expecting something about kitchens?" he smirked, reaching for his Jello shot.
Duo shrugged and grinned. "Ariodh, another adjective?"
Ariodh looked up from glomping Kurama. She peered at the amorous youko, who was still determinedly nuzzling Hiei, whispering something in his ear. Hiei's face was stony.
"Insatiable," she grinned, and Hiei nodded grimly, shoving at Kurama's wandering hands with a set face.
"Okay...Trowa's turn! Um, a past-tense verb."
Trowa considered it. For awhile.
Kurama burrowed Hiei underneath a mound of sofa cushions.
"Blasted," Quatre giggled, snuggling up to him.
"No! Screwed!" Ariodh suggested excitedly, eyeing the pile of sofa cushions and winking.
"Fucked! Fucked!" Duo put in, bouncing up and down. Casually Heero backhanded him.
"If you don't stop making stupid suggestions," he growled, "you'll be fucked."
"Promise?" Duo asked hopefully, eyes wide.
"Redeemed," Trowa finally decided, running his long fingers through Quatre's golden hair. The Arabian smiled happily and patted his knee. Calmly Trowa picked up his shot and drank it.
"Aww..." Duo and Ariodh chorused, while Heero looked stonily unimpressed.
"Quatre! You're up."
The golden-haired pilot bounced to his feet.
"Uh...not literally, Quatre. But okay. Give us a name."
"Uh...the name of a person."
"Not a Gundam person, Quatre."
"Oh." Quatre's face brightened. "Well...Trowa, then."
No one looked surprised.
Quatre grabbed his Jello shot and slurped it noisily, then fell back into his seat and gave Trowa a sloppy kiss.
"Wufei! Another noun."
Wufei started. He had a trapped, edgy look on his face, and had been eyeing the window to the balcony as if he was prepared to leap madly at it and make a Wufei-sized hole.
"A-another noun? Well then...fight."
"Wufei. You said that last turn."
Wufei looked indignant. "Can't I use it again?"
"Sure...if you wanna down a whole bottle of sake," Kurama drawled, his red head popping briefly from the mound of sofa cushions.
Wufei looked ready to spit nails. "Fine then. Sortie."
"That's another word for fight!" Ariodh objected. She tugged on Kurama's sleeve. "Isn't it? Ne? Kurama?"
Kurama and Hiei were almost completely buried under the small pile of couch cushions, from which incoherent noises were now emerging. Ariodh pouted and gave up, turning back to her pizza.
"All right, sortie. So drink the shot already!" Duo prompted.
Wufei glared at him and carefully selected a lime Jello shot.
"My turn!" Duo crowed happily, sticking the paper at arms' length and squinting at it. "Uh..."
Heero snorted and snatched it away from him. "Gimmee that."
"Hey!" But Duo was too smashed to resist. He grabbed a Jello shot and guzzled it down.
"Uh...Duo, you didn't say a word yet," Trowa reminded him.
"Oh." Duo waited expectantly.
"Give me a descriptive noun," Heero told him.
"You wanna descriptive noun?" Duo leered at him, rolling the empty shotglass in his palms. "I'll give you a...hmm...descriptive noun..."
They waited as Duo pondered.
Then Heero elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"Ow!!" Duo complained, starting awake. "Okay! I got it! Fuck-up!"
Everyone fell over.
Except Heero. He wrote it down. And Kurama and Hiei. They were already in a mostly prone position, anyway...and squeaky growls were emerging from the sofa cushions, interspersed with an occasional surprised "...ooh..."
Duo picked up another shot and drank it.
Heero frowned at the paper. "Another word for trip." Then his face lit up. "Mission!"
Heero eyed the pile of sofa cushions and tangled (but still thankfully clothed) limbs and finally said "Hiei...? Adjective."
Hiei's head broke the surface of the sofa cushions. "Erotic," he gasped, and vanished again.
Heero shrugged and wrote it down.
"Hey! You didn't drink your shot!" Wufei said indignantly, vigilantly making sure if he had to, then everyone had to.
A hand appeared from the cushions and grabbed it.
"Kurama. The name of a group."
Some rustling noises.
"Kurama?" Ariodh prompted, batting at the sofa cushions.
More rustling noises.
They waited, wide-eyed, expecting a moan to break the air at any second. Wufei looked around frantically for the nearest self-destruct button in case that did happen.
A bright red head appeared above the cushions, Kurama's gem-brilliant eyes wide, his face slightly flushed. "Sorry," he grinned. "I was a bit occupied."
"WAS!?" an outraged, slightly muffled voice rumbled up from the pillows, and a fist shot up to close around one mussed red forelock of hair.
Kurama eeped. "The Thundercats!" he replied hastily before he vanished again.
Heero wrote it down.
Ariodh frowned. "Who're they?"
The Gundam pilots blinked at each other, dumbfounded.
Ariodh shrugged and gave up. "What's my--"
"The shot!" Wufei said excitedly. "If he doesn't drink his shot, he has to down the whole bottle!" Wufei leapt up, prepared to initiate the punishment. Anything to drag apart the necking couple.
The rustling noises from the mound of pillows stopped abruptly.
Kurama pushed himself upright on the sofa, smiling widely and innocently at his house guests. He grabbed a shot, slurped it down, then leered at Hiei again. The fire demon was trying futilely to rearrange the squashed cushions, pretending that nothing had happened.
"Oi," Quatre blinked, wide-eyed. "That was SOOO quiet! I mean, that was even quieter than Tr--mmph--"
Trowa glanced over at Heero, his hand firmly over the Arabian pilot's mouth. "What's next?"
"The name of someone present. Ariodh?"
Ariodh was snuggled in the crook of Kurama's now-free arm. "Kurama," she replied happily, stretching her arm for a shot and falling short, wiggling her fingers. With an annoyed grunt Hiei retrieved it for her.
Heero turned his intense gaze onto Trowa, who was looking a bit less than impassive as Quatre stuck his tongue between the fingers over his mouth, then grinned and took one into his mouth, sucking on it.
"Trowa? An adjective."
Trowa tore his gaze away from watching Quatre suck on his fingers. "Adjective?" His eyes returned to Quatre, who had lost interest and was starting to giggle, butting his head against Trowa's chest. "Wasted?"
Heero snorted and wrote it down.
"Yay! Wasted!" Duo and Ariodh cheered.
"Quatre, adjective," Heero said curtly, beginning to look impatient.
Quatre looked up from fumbling at Trowa's shirt, apparently realizing that it didn't have buttons. "Another one?" he squinted. Heero nodded silently. Quatre heaved a sigh. "Ohhkay. Adjective...hmm...wasted!"
"Um...Quatre...Trowa just said that, you know."
Quatre was dumbfounded. "He DID?" He tried to muss up Trowa's hair, grinning, and settled for patting a few spikes. "I guess great minds think alike! Well...how about 'flowing,' then?"
"Flowing?" Heero repeated, raising an eyebrow.
"Flowing?" Duo echoed incredulously. "What kind of adjective is *that!?* And who would ever use it in a story?"
"A yaoi story, no less?" Kurama added, shrugging.
"It's not yaoi!" Wufei said hastily. "You said it was just Mad Libs! You promised!" There were overtones of 'I'm going to leap across the living room screaming about justice at the top of my lungs' in his voice.
"No no, not yaoi," Duo said quickly.
"C'mon, it's time for the last word!" Ariodh urged, grabbing at the last slice of pizza. "Wufei!"
"Give us an exclamation," Heero uttered.
"For your word," Kurama clarified helpfully. "You know, like 'oh my gosh,' or something like that."
Wufei brightened. "In the name of justice!"
Well, except for Heero - his mouth quirked. But he wrote it down. Then he ripped off the piece of paper, and penciled the words into the makeshift Mad Lib. "Who wants to read it?"
"MeMeMeMe!" Ariodh and Quatre yelled, then glared at each other, generating showers of high-voltage electricity sparks.
Heero shook Duo, who had fallen asleep in his lap, snoring peacefully, braid tucked in his fist. "Oi. Oi. We're reading the Mad Lib now."
Duo bolted upright, bumping the top of his head on the underside of Heero's chin. Heero glared.
"Ooh, we are? Can I read it?"
Heero shrugged and held it out.
Quatre and Ariodh looked indignant, then turned and glomped Trowa and Kurama for comfort, respectively.
Duo grinned widely at everyone, wiggling his eyebrows. Heero sat calmly beside him. Wufei sat grumpily in the corner, playing with the last shotglass he'd picked up. Quatre sat forward, wide eyes glimmering, while Trowa was calm as ever. And Ariodh, Kurama, and Hiei had kind of turned into a little tangled pile, but three pairs of bright eyes still peered up expectantly.
Duo cleared his throat.
One _sweaty_ _nightfall_ there was a group of _six_ _kitchens_ who took a _sexy_ _blastoff_. However, due to a small _orgy_ they were forced off course to _fight_ a _throatily_ _destroyed_ _tournament_. This had surprisingly _passionate_ results. Of course, due to the _insatiable_ efforts of the _redeemed_ leader _Trowa_, this _sortie_ was a complete _fuck-up_. In the end, the _mission_ proved to be every bit as _erotic_ as the smartest group of the _Thundercats_, _Kurama_, had planned from the _wasted_ start. Thus it proves that _flowing_ trips are always _in the name of justice!_
Heero looked around the room with a slightly confused expression. Everyone was giggling. Even Wufei was trying to control a smirk, and somewhat failing. Why was everyone laughing? He hadn't thought it was that funny. Then again, he supposed it was better while drunk. Three shots wasn't enough to put him under the table.
"Kurama? What's the Thundercats?"
Kurama giggled and grabbed another shot off the tray. "I always did want to be Liono," he answered, not replying to her question. He leaned towards her and leered. "Hey, can I ply you with liquor?"
Ariodh blinked. "Anything with liquor," she assured him.
"It wasn't too yaoi," Wufei said grudgingly, eyeing the empty shotglass in his hands. Glancing around to make sure no one was looking, he grabbed another one.
"It wasn't yaoi at all!" Duo exclaimed, then he looked down at the paper again, eyes crossing.
"I dunno..." Quatre said dubiously. "Trowa and that other guy..."
"Kurama?" prompted Kurama.
Quatre blinked and tried to focus on him. "Yeah. Kurama. I think Kurama had the hots for Trowa."
"What!?" Kurama and Trowa blurted.
Wufei bristled. "You perverts! Why do you have to take a perfectly good story and turn it into a-- a-- twisted, sick little parody..."
"Oi!" Kurama said sharply. "Watch what you call Hie~OW!"
Hiei blinked, his fangs still latched onto the meaty part of Kurama's palm. He growled and worried at the flesh. Kurama winced. "Okay, okay, it was a bad joke - now let go already!"
Wufei was still glowering in his corner, but looked thoughtful.
"Let's play again!" Ariodh urged, bouncing up and down.
"Hai! Let's play again!" Duo agreed, grabbing the pen and paper. He hiccuped.
Trowa nodded. "...Again," he agreed.
"Oi, give someone else a chance with that pen!" Kurama complained.
Quatre reached for another shot, and upended it above his mouth. Then he blinked several times and looked around. "Can we play again?"
They looked at the table, littered with empty pizza boxes and turned-over shotglasses.
"We're going to need more shots."