[FIC] L is for Luck
Title: L is for Luck (part of the Alphabet Series)
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: barely implied 1x2
Wordcount: 993
Warnings: stupidity (on the part of the author and the characters)
Summary: The boys play strip-poker.
AN: Please keep in mind when reading these that I was young(er) when I wrote them and didn't know anything about anything. No part of the Alphabet Series has been edited besides for formatting purposes.
It was one of those rare nights that all five Gundam pilots were home rather than on a mission.
It was also the gloomy, rainy sort of night that Duo hated with a deep, slightly unreasonable passion. His weather preference was for sunny days, the kind perfect for getting into some sort of mishap or slicing and dicing OZ mobile suits, which ever fate allowed. But tonight was dismal and dark. So naturally, Duo was sulking.
Duo found it pointless to sulk unless there were people to see him do it, so he was sulking in his favorite chair in the living room. His favorite chair was actually the one Heero usually preferred (Duo was well aware of that fact and took the chair on purpose, since if you are going to sulk it is even better to annoy someone while you do it), so Heero had taken Wufei’s chair (also beneficial to Duo’s plan, since that made two people he had annoyed with one action). The Chinese pilot, unlike Duo, considered himself above sulking and had calmly joined Quatre and Trowa on the couch. Trowa had relinquished control of the remote to Quatre, but by this point the entire household generally agreed that although they had well over a thousand channels, there was nothing on.
“Let’s play a game,” Duo suggested. There was the distinct sound of groaning from the couch, but they were all bored enough that it was Heero who asked “What kind of game?”
“I dunno; there’s got to be a deck of cards somewhere in this mess we call a house.”
Quatre made a face. “I have one, but I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t call the house messy. I’m the one who cleans it.”
“Not to mention Duo’s room is the messiest room in the house,” Trowa added.
Duo just grinned. “Okay, but the only game I know is poker. Everyone okay with that?”
“What will we bet?” Heero asked, trying to hide his actual interest. “Quatre’s the only one with any money.”
“And I’ve never played poker,” Quatre added. “My father didn’t approve of gambling.”
Duo’s grin widened. “I got it! We’ll play strip poker!”
Wufei snorted. “Maxwell, there is no way in hell you’re going to get me to play strip poker.”
--------
Three hours later the five boys were seated around the informal dining room table, which was the only round table in the house (the formal dining room table was rectangular, and there was no table in the kitchen).
Wufei sat shamefaced, huddled as best as he could in his chair. He was completely naked and even had his hair down, having bet his ponytail holder in the last round. He was out, but Duo had insisted he couldn’t take his clothes and leave until a final winner was declared.
Trowa and Heero had the best poker faces, but lacked the skills to go with them. Heero was sitting barefooted in his spandex shorts, while Trowa, also barefoot, was down to his boxers and a pair of suspenders.
Quatre was the second-least embarrassed; he was apparently lucky in card games and had lost only his pants. Since they were all seated at the table, no one could really tell.
Duo had lost only his shirt, and that only recently. He was using the loss to his advantage, though; flexing as often as he could, reaching across the table, stretching his arms. Heero found it very distracting and in the next round lost his shorts.
-------
By midnight only Duo and Quatre were left, and they were down to their underwear. Duo was glaring at his bad hand, while Quatre displayed remarkable grace and poise even when he was nearly naked. Duo didn’t get how he managed it. He also didn’t get how Quatre had gotten so far in a game he had never played before. Beginner’s luck could only take someone so far.
Heero was peering carefully over Duo’s shoulder, hoping his movement wouldn’t be noticed. He knew Duo was going to lose; the self-proclaimed God of Death was horrible at hiding his thoughts and emotions outside of actual missions, and lots of time with him had taught Heero to read every tiny flicker of Duo’s violet eyes.
Trowa glanced at Quatre’s hand. A full house, and judging by Duo’s expression, the better set of cards. It was best for everyone that Quatre win, since the blond wouldn’t hold their clothes hostage. Duo would.
Wufei was still to ashamed to even lift his head. They had lied when they said it would be dishonorable not to play their stupid game, but he had given in anyway. It was one thing to lose a card game. It was another to lose his clothing (and his dignity) in said card game. “Injustice,” he muttered darkly for the fifty-millionth time.
Quatre fought off the urge to smile. He’d told the truth when he had said he’d never played poker. What he had casually failed to mention was that the Maguanac were adamant poker players. They played at least one game every night, and Quatre, while not participating, had watched them and learned all sorts of strategies through observation. But his friends didn’t need to know his little secret.
Duo put his cards down and his head face-down on the table. “I fold,” his muffled voice announced.
Wufei let out a sigh of relief. “Finally. Can I have my clothes back, please?”
Quatre smiled. “Sure, Wufei. You can all have your clothes back.”
Wufei grabbed his clothing from the pile in the center of the table and fled, moving so fast that he was just a skin-colored blur. Trowa and Heero reclaimed their coverings with more calm, beginning to redress. Duo lifted his head enough to look at Quatre.
“I gotta know, buddy. How’d you do it?”
Quatre shrugged, still smiling. “Beginner’s luck? Or maybe you just aren’t that good.”
Duo groaned and put his head back down.
Fandom: Gundam Wing
Pairing: barely implied 1x2
Wordcount: 993
Warnings: stupidity (on the part of the author and the characters)
Summary: The boys play strip-poker.
AN: Please keep in mind when reading these that I was young(er) when I wrote them and didn't know anything about anything. No part of the Alphabet Series has been edited besides for formatting purposes.
It was one of those rare nights that all five Gundam pilots were home rather than on a mission.
It was also the gloomy, rainy sort of night that Duo hated with a deep, slightly unreasonable passion. His weather preference was for sunny days, the kind perfect for getting into some sort of mishap or slicing and dicing OZ mobile suits, which ever fate allowed. But tonight was dismal and dark. So naturally, Duo was sulking.
Duo found it pointless to sulk unless there were people to see him do it, so he was sulking in his favorite chair in the living room. His favorite chair was actually the one Heero usually preferred (Duo was well aware of that fact and took the chair on purpose, since if you are going to sulk it is even better to annoy someone while you do it), so Heero had taken Wufei’s chair (also beneficial to Duo’s plan, since that made two people he had annoyed with one action). The Chinese pilot, unlike Duo, considered himself above sulking and had calmly joined Quatre and Trowa on the couch. Trowa had relinquished control of the remote to Quatre, but by this point the entire household generally agreed that although they had well over a thousand channels, there was nothing on.
“Let’s play a game,” Duo suggested. There was the distinct sound of groaning from the couch, but they were all bored enough that it was Heero who asked “What kind of game?”
“I dunno; there’s got to be a deck of cards somewhere in this mess we call a house.”
Quatre made a face. “I have one, but I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t call the house messy. I’m the one who cleans it.”
“Not to mention Duo’s room is the messiest room in the house,” Trowa added.
Duo just grinned. “Okay, but the only game I know is poker. Everyone okay with that?”
“What will we bet?” Heero asked, trying to hide his actual interest. “Quatre’s the only one with any money.”
“And I’ve never played poker,” Quatre added. “My father didn’t approve of gambling.”
Duo’s grin widened. “I got it! We’ll play strip poker!”
Wufei snorted. “Maxwell, there is no way in hell you’re going to get me to play strip poker.”
--------
Three hours later the five boys were seated around the informal dining room table, which was the only round table in the house (the formal dining room table was rectangular, and there was no table in the kitchen).
Wufei sat shamefaced, huddled as best as he could in his chair. He was completely naked and even had his hair down, having bet his ponytail holder in the last round. He was out, but Duo had insisted he couldn’t take his clothes and leave until a final winner was declared.
Trowa and Heero had the best poker faces, but lacked the skills to go with them. Heero was sitting barefooted in his spandex shorts, while Trowa, also barefoot, was down to his boxers and a pair of suspenders.
Quatre was the second-least embarrassed; he was apparently lucky in card games and had lost only his pants. Since they were all seated at the table, no one could really tell.
Duo had lost only his shirt, and that only recently. He was using the loss to his advantage, though; flexing as often as he could, reaching across the table, stretching his arms. Heero found it very distracting and in the next round lost his shorts.
-------
By midnight only Duo and Quatre were left, and they were down to their underwear. Duo was glaring at his bad hand, while Quatre displayed remarkable grace and poise even when he was nearly naked. Duo didn’t get how he managed it. He also didn’t get how Quatre had gotten so far in a game he had never played before. Beginner’s luck could only take someone so far.
Heero was peering carefully over Duo’s shoulder, hoping his movement wouldn’t be noticed. He knew Duo was going to lose; the self-proclaimed God of Death was horrible at hiding his thoughts and emotions outside of actual missions, and lots of time with him had taught Heero to read every tiny flicker of Duo’s violet eyes.
Trowa glanced at Quatre’s hand. A full house, and judging by Duo’s expression, the better set of cards. It was best for everyone that Quatre win, since the blond wouldn’t hold their clothes hostage. Duo would.
Wufei was still to ashamed to even lift his head. They had lied when they said it would be dishonorable not to play their stupid game, but he had given in anyway. It was one thing to lose a card game. It was another to lose his clothing (and his dignity) in said card game. “Injustice,” he muttered darkly for the fifty-millionth time.
Quatre fought off the urge to smile. He’d told the truth when he had said he’d never played poker. What he had casually failed to mention was that the Maguanac were adamant poker players. They played at least one game every night, and Quatre, while not participating, had watched them and learned all sorts of strategies through observation. But his friends didn’t need to know his little secret.
Duo put his cards down and his head face-down on the table. “I fold,” his muffled voice announced.
Wufei let out a sigh of relief. “Finally. Can I have my clothes back, please?”
Quatre smiled. “Sure, Wufei. You can all have your clothes back.”
Wufei grabbed his clothing from the pile in the center of the table and fled, moving so fast that he was just a skin-colored blur. Trowa and Heero reclaimed their coverings with more calm, beginning to redress. Duo lifted his head enough to look at Quatre.
“I gotta know, buddy. How’d you do it?”
Quatre shrugged, still smiling. “Beginner’s luck? Or maybe you just aren’t that good.”
Duo groaned and put his head back down.