Blame The Ties

by GreenLady

Warnings: Hm. Lots of them. Humor (and yes, with me, this is a warning), yaoi (4x2), rather one-sided citrus content, my beta was not satisfied. Inspired (okay, that's not the right word, more like "provoked") by my new job. It's not so new anymore, but it was when I wrote this. This story has been sitting on my hard drive for several months, which should tell you something. Oh, and this is why I try and leave the smut writing to the experts.

Disclaimer: Duo and Quatre belong to their creators and whoever else holds a piece of the GW moneymaking machine. Sadly, that's not me. *Goes off into a corner to cry*


“I won’t wear a tie, you can’t make me!” The loudly whining voice got the attention of more than a few shoppers, and they stopped doing their duty to the economy to watch the spectacle in progress. A short, slender blonde pulled frantically at another boy with a long, chestnut braid. The braided young man had latched onto the frame of the entrance to the department store and was hanging on for dear life, shouting in protest as the blonde yanked his legs off the floor and tried to pry him off bodily.

The blonde was turning pink with embarrassment. “Duo, you’re causing a scene!”

“Waa! I don’t care! You can’t make me!”

Aqua eyes narrowed dangerously, and suddenly Quatre reached out and yanked at the protesting boy’s braid. “If you don’t let go right now and stop fussing I’ll make you very, very sorry,” he whispered dangerously. The tone did not go with his expression, as at the same time he was smiling apologetically at an old grandmother. She was frowning disapprovingly at them both.

“Unhand the hair you bloodthirsty blonde!” Duo meeped as the hand tightened. “Um, I mean . . . I would be honored to let you pick out clothes for me?” The last was said questioningly, in the hopes that it was the right phrase to convince the other boy to let go of his beloved braid.

Luckily, he nodded and let go. “That’s better, now . . .” whatever else the blonde was going to say was lost in a grunt as Duo abruptly let go of the frame and dropped on to the still pulling Quatre.

They disentangled themselves and got to their feet, (during which Duo managed to “accidentally” cop a feel), and Quatre glared at the innocently whistling Duo. The blonde fastidiously brushed at his slacks, face a picture of forced calm, before grabbing Duo’s arm again (rather more violently than was really necessary) and pulling him to the men’s department.

Quatre led his friend straight to the neckties, and began to peruse the goods with a practiced eye. He picked up a violet and blue number and held it critically next to Duo’s face. The other ex-pilot cringed in fear, but bravely held still as the blonde continued to go through the ties. Some he would discard as unworthy, others he would add to the growing pile in his arms. Quatre began to hum happily under his breath as he worked. He really enjoyed picking out clothes; especially fancy ones with fun accessories like ties. In fact, he admitted to himself, he enjoyed it a little too much. Quatre surreptitiously adjusted his trousers. If Duo ever found out about his secret passion for clothes shopping . . . well, it could be bad. No doubt he would use the information for his own nefarious purposes, probably in a way that would be intensely embarrassing for Quatre. Speaking of the prankster . . .

He looked up from his contemplation between two ties, a subtle green and gold checkered and an embroidered amethyst and red, when he realized that it had gotten too quiet. He turned to look behind him.

Duo was gone.

Sighing in exasperation, he set out to locate his unwilling charge, snagging a couple of dress shirts on his way. He wasn’t having any luck until he heard a loud exclamation from a very familiar voice. The blonde looked around quickly, finally glimpsing long brunette hair between the cloth’s racks. Quatre weaved his way through, and then stopped short in complete horror when he saw what Duo had been crowing over.

The other boy had found the clearance racks, and Quatre couldn’t help but think that there was a reason these clothes were on clearance, there was a reason nobody else wanted them.

Duo was holding up possibly the ugliest Hawaiian shirt Quatre had ever seen. It was a faded bright pink, dotted with misshapen pale green palm leaves and ambiguous yellow and brown splotches. [1]

Quatre wasted no time. He ran up to the other boy and ripped the shirt out of his hands. “You are not wearing THAT to Millardo and Noin’s wedding!”

Duo blinked at him in confusion before his expression changed to vaguely insulted. “That’s not for me! Geez, Q, I wouldn’t wear this, give me credit for some taste. I thought that Howard might like it.”

“Oh.” Quatre said, a light blush beginning to stain his cheekbones. With great dignity, he smoothed the shirt out on its hanger and handed it back to Duo, who was watching him with eyebrows raised and a faint grin twisting his lip.

“You know Q, you’re cute when you blush.”

Quatre blushed harder.

“Can I help you guys find anything?”

Both boys looked up to see a smiling sales girl. Quatre looked at her nametag. “Yes Karen, we could actually use the help. We’re looking for dress clothes.”

“I’m not going to wear a suit,” Duo piped up suddenly.

“I know, Duo.” Quatre said with a slight glare aimed at his friend. He turned back to the sales girl. “Dress shirts?”

She nodded, still smiling politely, and left to track down the clothes. Quatre turned around to see Duo staring at him suspiciously. “What?”

“So you’re not making me get a suit?”

“I already said I wasn’t. A dress shirt and a tie are perfectly acceptable for the wedding.”

Duo perked up slightly, violet eyes sparkling wickedly. “So you promise right? Just a dress shirt and a tie? Nothing else?”

Quatre started to agree then caught himself, noticing the look on his friend’s face. He frowned suspiciously and thought about what he had almost agreed to. His eyes widened. “And pants,” he amended hastily, “dress pants.”

Duo pouted, but was forestalled from saying anything else by the return of the sales clerk. She had an armful of clothing, and Quatre looked through it and picked out those he deemed suitable. He then loaded Duo up and steered him bodily to the dressing room, just to make sure he got there without any mishaps, of course.

Then he settled down beside the entrance to the dressing room to wait.

He waited.

And waited. And waited some more.

The blonde glanced impatiently at his watch. It didn’t take this long to try on one outfit and bring it out for his appraisal. The blonde stormed into the dressing room and knocked on the door to the stall he had tossed the American in. “Duo! Duo are you done yet?”

“Um, just a minute Q,” came the slightly muffled reply.

Quatre frowned suspiciously and pushed open the door, then stopped with his mouth hanging open when he got a look at Duo. He felt a giggle burble up through his chest, than he burst out laughing.

At least he was trying on the clothes. Sort of.

Duo had tried on all the ties. At one time. They were tied in a crisscrossing fashion all along his arms and chest, a multi-colored suit of silk. He had even tied one festively around his forehead Karate Kid style. He grinned sheepishly. “Ah, would you believe . . . that I’m Tie Man?”

Quatre was laughing so hard at this point that he collapsed to the floor of the dressing room, rocking back and forth helplessly. Every time he started to get himself under control he’d look back up at Duo and begin all over again. Meanwhile, Duo was busy taking all the ties off, quite a job considering all the time it had taken him to get them on. His face was very red.

Finally, Quatre got himself under control, hiccupping occasionally and still grinning like mad. Duo had finally gotten all the ties off and was just standing there in his boxers staring with a slightly affronted expression at the giggly blonde. “Are you through?” He asked, with great dignity.

This set Quatre off again. Duo glared at his friend, who was now wrapped around his legs with his nose buried in the side of his boxer-covered hip to muffle the sound of his laughing. Duo scowled. Once the blonde fell into one of his giggly fits, nothing short of Sandrock could make him stop. Except maybe for extreme embarrassment, but how to do that? The other boy stared thoughtfully at the blonde head at his waist, then grinned suddenly. “You know, if you’re going to be down there, why don’t you do something constructive?”

The giggling stopped. Quatre lifted his head and looked at the grinning Duo, but instead of blushing so cutely like he usually did, he looked speculative. Duo gulped. He had seen that expression before, usually when the blonde had just thought up some mischief that not even the God of Death would want to touch with a beam canon. “Hm. I suppose getting you to try this stuff on the correct way,” he snickered here, “is going to be more work then I thought. How about we make a deal?”

For a second, Duo was stunned. He blinked, thrown for a loop. Where was the easily embarrassed friend that he knew and loved? Of course, he was an easy-going guy. If the blonde wanted to play, he’d gladly follow along. (Right off a cliff, if need be). “I’m always willing to deal.” Somehow he succeeded in making the last word sound dirty.

Quatre leaned forward, and grasped the side of his friend’s hips, eyeing his boxers, and more importantly, what was underneath, thoughtfully. “I’ll do something . . . how did you put it? Oh, that’s right, constructive, if you try on the clothes.”

Duo blinked. Was Quatre suggesting what he thought? They were in a public place!

Wait.

They were about to do something naughty in a public place, where anybody could just walk in on them. Duo’s eyes brightened. “Sounds like a good deal to me.”

The blonde grinned wickedly. “But you have to try them on while I’m being constructive, and if you stop, so will I.”

Duo’s eyes widened. “You’re kidding me.”

“It’s only dress shirts and ties, all things above the waist.” A part of Quatre was horrified. They were in the middle of a crowded department store, and the dressing room had no locks. But . . . Duo had just looked so incredibly cute covered in Quatre’s favorite accessory. Clearly, he couldn’t be held responsible for his own actions. He blamed the ties. Quatre grinned like a shark. “What, you aren’t up to the challenge?”

“Oh, I’d say I’m definitely up for it.” And he was, his boxers were poking away from his body, straining towards Quatre eagerly at the mere thought of public sex.

The blonde looked at his cloth-covered erection appraisingly. “I guess you are.” And with that he yanked down Duo’s boxers and grabbed his penis.

The other boy squeaked.

Quatre breathed on the tip and looked up. “Well?”

Duo looked at him blankly. “Huh? Oh right, the clothes!” He grabbed a dress shirt and began putting his arms through the sleeves, trying to keep the long ends from getting into Quatre’s face and impeding any . . . constructiveness.

The blonde smiled once he saw that Duo was on his way, and then he bent to his task. He gently kissed the tip, and then quickly swiped his tongue along the underside. A groan came from above, and Quatre took a quick peek up to see trembling fingers fumbling with the buttons. Seeing that Duo was being a good boy he had mercy and swallowed him.

Well, maybe mercy wasn’t really the right word. He teased, working him excruciatingly slow, not really setting enough of a pattern to let him get off quickly. Quatre looked up again to see Duo’s hand slowing on the tie. He pulled away abruptly, ignoring the cry of protest. “Now Duo, don’t be slow about it. Otherwise I won’t continue.”

The other boy glared at him a moment, then quickly began knotting the tie. Or at least trying to knot it, usually dexterous fingers were fumbling horribly. Quatre bent back to work, snickering softly, feeling incredibly aroused from the daringness of their location.

When Duo finished with the tie he stopped, and Quatre pulled away again to stare critically at the incomplete outfit. “Not bad, but I think I’d like that purplish tie better with the shirt, try that one instead.”

Duo hurried to change and the blonde swallowed him again, giggling slightly when he saw his friend’s haste. The American groaned in pleasure at the vibration from the chuckles. This was one time he’d happily let Quatre laugh at his expense.

Quatre’s tongue worked constantly, mouth gripping Duo’s length in a velvet better than any cloth he could currently try on. He would only stop occasionally to pronounce judgment on another outfit. He was currently making Duo try on a previous shirt, as he was left debating over two choices and had decided that he needed to see them both again.

Duo could have cheerfully shot him. After he had finished the blowjob, of course.

His hips were thrusting slightly against Quatre now, only held in check by the firm grip the other boy had on his sides. His fingers fumbled with buttons that were apparently too large for their holes, but he didn’t dare stop changing. He was so close . . .

“Can I get you another size or anything?” It was the helpful voice of the sales lady Karen, and Quatre shot a nervous look at the unlockable dressing room door. Then he looked up at Duo, who had a positively hilarious look on his face, caught between orgasm and terribly helpful department store personnel. And he just looked adorable, a dress shirt on and only partially buttoned. Quatre grinned around the cock in his mouth and went back to moving his head, curious as to how Duo would handle it. [2]

The other boy wet his lips nervously. “Um, NO! I mean . . . um, everything’s fi~ine!” His voice cracked on the last word, as the blonde did something particularly wicked.

“Are you sure? I could get you another color perhaps?”

God, why wouldn’t she go away? “No, really, I’ve got everything I need here. Almost found an outfit. I’m almost ready . . . oh god!”

“Sir? Sir are you all right?”

Duo glared down at the blonde, then squeezed his eyes shut. “Fine!” He laughed nervously. “Got to be careful of those zippers, ya know?”

There was silence from the other side of the door. Quatre could almost see Karen’s eyes widen as she figured it out. “Oh! Um, I don’t have that problem . . . oh look another customer! I’ll just go see if they need some help!” She beat a hasty retreat.

Duo’s breath hitched in relief, then hitched for an entirely different reason. He quickly stuffed his fist in his mouth, not wanting to bring Karen running again. Sparks exploded along the base of his spine, and suddenly his whole body seized up as he came unexpectedly.

Quatre finished swallowing expertly. He and Duo had done this kind of thing enough times together to perfect their technique. Being friends with benefits taught them all sorts of useful things.

Duo slid to the floor of the dressing room and Quatre released him from his mouth with a slight popping sound. He grinned down at his exhausted friend. “I think I like the blue shirt with the violet tie the best, don’t you agree?” It would have sounded better if the blonde hadn’t been breathing almost as hard as his exhausted friend.

Duo nodded dumbly; at this point he would have agreed to wear a potted plant. He looked up at Quatre, and then blinked in surprise. “You didn’t . . .” he glanced meaningfully at the circus tent in Quatre’s pants.

“Nope. Not yet anyway.” The blonde said huskily. “I expect you’ll take care of me when we get home?” As he talked, he un-tucked his shirt so that it would hide his problem.

“Hm. That could be arranged,” Duo said with a toothy grin that would have scared anybody else. He eyed the pile of ties speculatively and his smile getting wider. Perhaps he would buy them all. Quatre seemed to enjoy Tie Man, plus, he could think of several other good uses to which they could be put.

After he recovered, Quatre helped him get back into his own clothes and they left the dressing room. As they were walking out of the fitting rooms the blonde noticed a sign that stopped him short. Duo turned and looked curiously at him, wondering why the blonde’s eyes were suddenly wide with horror. “What?”

Quatre wordlessly pointed, and Duo followed the path of the finger to read the sign.

“All fitting rooms are monitored by store personnel.”


In a room deep in the bowels of the department store, a security guard spit up coffee all over a television screen.


Notes:

[1] The Hawaiian shirt is real. It’s still for sale.

[2] Yep. This kind of thing happens. My coworker caught a couple the other day. But they weren’t Duo and Quatre so . . . ew.


Fin

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