Disclaimer: I don’t own the G-boys and I’m not making any money off of ‘em, so don’t sue me. Strange people don’t have money and I’m plenty strange.
Pairings: None, but it has 1x2 in it.
Warnings: language, tongue torture, Yaoi, humor.(Yeah, I like to cram everything into my shorts! He, He!) No sex, but graphic descriptions of yaoi sex.


Hyperactive Duo


“Tell us what we want to know and you’ll-”

“-be set free?” Duo laughed. “I’m not an idiot, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me just how smart you are?”

Duo paced the ten by ten cell. It was unrelieved, gray metal from floor to ceiling, the door only noticeable by the faint lines making a rectangle door shape. The voice
of the interrogator came from a speaker that Duo couldn’t see. He assumed that there were optical feeds as well.

“I’m not going to tell you anything.... at least nothing important.”

The interrogator puzzled over that for a moment, but his voice was cold and assured as he replied, “You will tell me everything I want to know, I promise you.”

“Torture again?” Duo scoffed. “You should keep better files. It’s never worked before.”

“You’ve never had this done to you before.”

Duo grinned, but he felt a chill of uncertainty over take his confidence. “Clue me in?”

“You like to talk, don’t you?”

Duo’s grin tightened. “So, what?”

“You don’t have anyone to talk to except me, now.”

“Maybe I’ll learn the virtue of silence, then,” Duo mocked, but he began pacing the cell again, growing nervous. He wasn’t liking where the conversation was headed
at all.

“For how long?”

The voice didn’t elaborate. Suspense was a good form of torture. It wore down the mind wonderfully.

Duo kept pacing. The bland, gray room was already getting on his nerves. In that kind of environment... Duo knew his own limits. He’d be babbling like a lunatic in a
matter of days.

Babbling like a lunatic? Duo grinned and it was relaxed and sincere now. The interrogator, still watching his victim, saw it and frowned. That wasn’t the reaction he
had been counting on. He wondered what the young man was thinking. What had suddenly given him hope? He had to crush whatever it was quickly. Soon, this boy
pilot was going to get to know despair and madness very intimately.


The interrogator leaned on his console, fingers gripping his elbows tightly and red rimmed eyes twitching. His mouth was turned down, teeth gritted as tightly as his
nerves. He didn’t know how much more he could take of this.

Snap, chew, snap, chew, snap, chew, snap, chew, snap, chew. Hour after hour, Duo popped his gum. Slap, slap, slap, bang, flip, bang, slap, slap, slap, bang, flip,
bang, as he ran towards the wall, jumped up, planted his booted feet firmly on the gray surface, pushed off with those boots, flipped head over heels with his long
braid flying, and landed neatly back in position to start all over again. Didn’t the boy sleep? Was he inhuman? He’d sent a guard in twice to force the gum out of the
pilot’s mouth. The man had been bitten for his trouble each time and Duo had managed to produce yet another stick of gum out of seeming nowhere.

Note to self; the interrogator thought grimly. Strip search the little bastard in the morning, full cavity search if necessary. Find every stick of that damn gum!
Slap, slap. slap, bang, flip, bang. Note to self; have both his legs broken in the morning as well.

“M-M-M-My Sheeeronna! M-M-M- My, Sheeronnna!” Duo sang off key, panting and punctuating each line of the awful song with a snap, chew of his gum and a
bang of his heels against the wall, in perfect rhythm.

Shut up! Shut up! Why wouldn’t the boy shut up?!

The song ended, but the interrogator knew the torture wasn’t stopping there, the boy replaced the song with another round of inane conversation. He’d been
alternating between the two as if it were a strange form of haiku.

“Heero now, he has such a big cock, you know? I keep eyeballing him when he gets out of the shower, when he dresses, every chance I get. He doesn’t know of
course. He’d kill me if he found out I was jacking off over it too. He kills everything. He even killed the fuzzy bunny slippers I gave him for Christmas. He’s soo hot,
though, you know what I mean? Just standing he gives me such a hard on.... I’m going to tell him one day. I’ll march right up to him and say, ‘Fuck me Heero!’
Maybe I shouldn’t put it that way. He might think I’m insulting him and kill me. Hell, he’d kill me anyway. They were such nice bunny slippers, you know, pink, and
really comfy. He didn’t have to shoot them. He could have just said, ‘Hey, Duo, stupid gift’, and given them back or exchanged them, or something. Hell, I would
have worn them! Poor things. Pink, bunny slipper fluff everywhere!”

Chew, snap, chew, slap, slap, slap, bang, flip, bang. “M-M-My Sheerooonna! M-M-My Sheeroonna!”

“I’d like to yank that spandex of Heero’s right down to his knees, take that big cock in my mouth, and... I wonder how hard it would be to get spandex off of a guy
who’s... you know... standing straight, hmm? I mean, would I have to peel it down, pull it wide and pull down, or just yank it down and hope it doesn’t hurt his big
python on the way down? I never thought about it before. Could be awkward. Maybe you can’t get it off at all when he’s like that? Scissors. Must remember to
keep some scissors handy. If I ever get the chance to do him, I’m not going to let some knitted petroleum product stop me!”

Chew, snap, chew, slap, slap, slap, bang, flip, bang. “M-M-My Sheeronna! M-M-M-My Sheeronna!”

“I could really use a peanut butter and jelly sandwich right now. You know how to make a really good one? You take the bread, grill it with butter ‘till it’s toasty,
melt a good swiss cheese on it, and then smear peanut butter on both sides of bread, both mind you, and then spread some really good strawberry jam in the middle.
Warm it up and enjoy heaven! I made one for Heero! He loved it, even though he wouldn’t say so or show it. He’s like that. He probably fucks with a sour face too.
I can’t imagine Heero shouting and carrying on like a wild cat in heat when he has sex. Just can’t. He probably kills all witnesses afterwards too, including his

Chew, snap, chew, slap, slap, slap, bang, flip, bang. “M-M-My Sheeroonna! M-M-My Sheeronna!”

“I want him dead!” The interrogator shoved back from his console. “He’s an idiot! Someone’s made a mistake! A fool like that can’t possibly know anything! He
can’t possibly be a Gundam pilot! I can’t take any more of this!!!”

The interrogator punched a button. “Detail thirty two? Eliminate prisoner in cell 29a! Do it now!” There was silence. It was late at night. Guard details were mostly
confined to perimeter points at that time. Still, there should have been someone... He went to the door. If he had to do it himself... the knob wouldn’t turn. It was
locked. Somehow, the automatic lock had been triggered. If the same was true of the locks in the entire building, then everyone was trapped!

“If you’re done having fun, Duo...”

The interrogator started violently and stared at the monitor. The door of the cell was open. A dark haired, Japanese boy, in a lime green tank top and black spandex
pants, was casually holding a gun and staring at the prisoner with a disapproving scowl.

“Aw, Heero!” Duo protested. “You’re such a party pooper!”

“If you’d like to stay, I can arrange that,” Heero snapped. He started to leave. Something in his face told the interrogator he wasn’t joking.

“No! Don’t leave!” The interrogator shouted into the microphone. Heero spun, gun twitching as he tried to find a target. “You’ve eliminated the guards. You’ve
locked up everyone. I- I can’t kill that stupid boy and I don’t- I don’t want to listen to him any more! Please, take him and escape! He doesn’t have any information
I need. The soldiers made a mistake taking him in the first place. Gundam pilot my ass! When I find the people responsible for this, for making me suffer through his
inane rambling, insanity, I’ll show them what torture is!”

“Seems I’m not wanted here, Heero,” Duo chuckled. “Maybe I should go. I think the party is winding down.”

Duo moved stiffly for the door, muscles and joints sore from the extreme exercise he had put them through. He needed a long hot bath with a bag of throat lozenges
to loosen up his enraged vocal chords. His hair needed a wash too.

“You should try that new shampoo of mine, Heero, you know, the one with the herbal smell to it,” Duo chattered as they moved from the cell into a bleak, gray

The interrogator heard a non commental, “Hn,” from the Japanese boy.

“Makes your hair silky even after Oz soldiers rough it up. Come on, just try it. I’ll help you. You rub it on and then let it set so that it loosens up the grease and the
dirt. Hey, everyone has that! I’m not insulting you. Well, anyway, you have to let it set and then you rub your scalp like this... You’re not looking, Heero. Like this.
You’re still not looking! It’s an art! Rub hard with your fingers. Massage that dirt and grease away and then rinse it good. The conditioner is the next step. Always
use conditioner or your hair gets brittle. Want me to help you point that gun at me Heero? Okay, okay, I’m following!”


“M-M-My Sheerrronna! M-M-My Sheeronna!”

The interrogator rewound the tape he’d been making of his long session with his prisoner. He popped it out of the console and deliberately wrote on it two words:
Duo Torture. No one would ever be able to endure it.



Duo: Someone’s going to sue me because of that song!
Kracken: It wasn’t THAT song!
Duo: Yes, it was!
Kracken: No, it wasn’t!
Duo: Then what song was it?
Kracken: Who said it was a song at all?
Duo (Grinning): Ah, clever!