“I sent him flowers, Rayon!” The Duke of Detroit whined. He sat on his throne sideways, his long limbs hanging off the armrests, a golden-plated telephone resting between his shoulder and ear.
“Why are you even calling me, Duke?”
“You’re the only one I can talk to about this. Come on, baby, I need help here.”
“Fine,” Rayon sighed. “Did you at least apologize to him? That might be a start.”
The Duke sat up and took hold of the receiver. “Apologize? That was the point of the flowers!”
“So, you left a note in the flowers saying you were sorry?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then, you didn’t apologize.”
“And I should?”
“Yes, Duke. You should.”
The Duke fumed for a moment, angrily wondering why on Earth he had to apologize in the first place. If anything, Dutch should be grateful he’s paying this much attention to him. If it were anyone else, they would have already succumbed. Why not him, though? It was all so incredibly annoying, annoying, annoying.
He took a deep breath. Alright, no. Rayon was right. He should apologize. That was respectful thing to do and he was all about respect.
“Fine, I will.”
“Should I even ask what you did?”
The Duke didn’t even deign to answer that question and merely hung up there and then. He was more preoccupied with how he was supposed to go apologize to Dutch in the first. Of course, he could just waltz into the Burners’ garage without a care in the world and demand Dutch’s attention. But that just might make him angrier and even more cautious around him. He didn’t want that.
Was this morning even that bad of an idea? He only did what he had felt like doing at the time. He just very honestly wanted to kiss him. So, he did. Just like that.
He got punched thereafter, sure, but that kiss also confirmed what he’d been feeling for a while now.
“Sir, there are two Burners waiting outside. Should I let them in?” No. 2’s voice echoed down that wide hallway.
“Burners?” Duke stood up excitedly. Maybe Dutch had finally come around, then. “Yes, let ‘em in right now. This instant!”
The blond-brunet adjusted himself, flipping his hair back and pushing his glasses back up as he made his way down the stairs leading up to his throne. Two figures were coming up to meet him and only then did No. 2’s words register with him. She’d said two Burners. Two. Not one. Two. It looked like to him like Dutch brought Chilton with him. Alright, that was fine. It’s not like Mike’s presence was going to hinder him in any way. The Duke did what he wanted.
“Well, if it isn’t Dutch!” Duke said with a bright smile, his arms wide open and welcoming, though Dutch merely glanced away in reaction. “And Chilton, you too.”
Mike raised a confused brown. “Uh, ok.”
The Duke held a hand out and a henchwoman appeared out of nowhere with a freshly trimmed rose. The blond-brunet took it, then quietly gestured the woman away and slithered over to Dutch’s side. He bowed deeply, taking a whiff of the flower before presenting it to the Burner. “For you, cheri.”
Dutch didn’t want to accept it, but the Duke’s low gaze eventually beckoned him over. He reluctantly took the rose and slid over to a more acceptable distance away. No one spoke for a moment. Dutch too busy shrugging awkwardly and the Duke preoccupied with grinning like a fool. Mike looked at both of them unable to understand how it had come down to this. He cleared his throat. “Dutch, we came here for a reason, remember?”
“Oh right.”
“I’m all ears, Dutch baby.”
Dutch spoke through clenched teeth. “I need a part.”
The Duke’s grin grew only wider. “I knew you would say that.” He leaned back. “So, why’d you bring Chilton along? Afraid of being with me alone?”
“I ain’t afraid!”
“Whoa, down, you two! What is even going on here?” Mike examined both their expressions.
The Duke laughed. “Not telling if he won’t. So, what part is it, hm?”
“The A-Model Sonic Turbo Booster, DB45.” Dutch replied, glancing at the Duke from the corner of his eye.
“Ah yes,” The Duke looked back at Dutch from over his glasses. “And what exactly do you plan on giving me in return? I mean, you don’t really think I’m just going to hand you over a rare part because I like you, right?”
“No, I didn’t think that.”
Mike gaped. “Because he… Wait, what?”
“Oh, sorry, mon amour.” Duke smirked. “It slipped.”
-0-
Dutch retreated to the only place he could retreat to— his studio. He had to be alone with his thoughts, his art. He had to take his mind off things. Let his feelings clear up. Yeah, clear up. Then, he could back to the garage and be (at least) substantially less disturbed by the Duke’s advances. He didn’t get it though. Why him? It’s not like the Duke ever paid him any attention before. Then again, considering the Duke’s wayward personality, maybe it shouldn’t surprise him at all. Alright then, in that case, what did he think about all of this?
What did he think about—
“Well my, I am flattered!” The Duke’s voice swooped in with a resounding blast. “It almost looks as good as the real thing.”
“Duke!” Dutch pulled off his gas mask, looking up at the Duke who had slid right up to him, before glancing back at his canvas. “When did I…?” It was the Duke’s bust, painted in flashy blues and yellows.
“Drawing me unconsciously, are you? Oh, cheri, why don’t you admit you’ve fallen for me too?” The Duke tipped Dutch over into his arms. “Et alors, qu’est-ce que tu penses de moi, au fait?”
Dutch tried to keep hold of what coolness he had left. “Your accent is terrible.”
“But it doesn’t make me any less fluent, Dutch baby.”
“You’re fluent in French?”
“Mais oui,”
Dutch rolled his eyes, totally unconvinced. The Duke dipped him almost to the floor, leaning his face closer to his. His pleased grin was practically plastered on his face. Dutch felt like he’d lose if he looked away from that gaze, so he just stared back. If anything, he wasn’t going to doubt the Duke’s sincerity. Maybe giving in wouldn’t be so bad.
Dutch closed his eyes and The Duke swooped in, laying his lips against his roughly— wasting no time to stick his tongue through Dutch’s teeth and kissing him deeply. The Duke cupped the back of the Dutch’s head, stroking the back of his ear while the other hand traveled from his chin, down his neck, to his shoulder, down his chest and lower…
The Duke pulled Dutch up and cornered him at the wall behind them. He pressed himself against him, bringing his hands down to his Dutch’s waist. Dutch wasn’t having that. He flicked the Duke’s glasses up to stop him. “That’s all you’re getting.”
Duke frowned. “Wow, stingy. What if I gave you that part you want, hm?” “I don’t need so much that I’d sell myself to you for it.”
Dutch crossed him arms and looked up at him defiantly. The Duke grinned again as he adjusted his glasses. “You’re not ‘selling yourself’, cheri. I thought we agreed you liked me back.”
“Nuh-uh. I said nothing, man.”
“Ah, but that bust of me over there disagrees.”
And Duke leaned down again to kiss him. Dutch kissed him back, his own arms unraveling to reach up around the Duke’s neck. They parted for a moment, their lips still only barely a centimeter apart. And the Duke whispered. “See, I told you so.”
Re: Duke/Dutch 2/? (actually i have a few ideas more for this but idk if i should write it)
“Why are you even calling me, Duke?”
“You’re the only one I can talk to about this. Come on, baby, I need help here.”
“Fine,” Rayon sighed. “Did you at least apologize to him? That might be a start.”
The Duke sat up and took hold of the receiver. “Apologize? That was the point of the flowers!”
“So, you left a note in the flowers saying you were sorry?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Then, you didn’t apologize.”
“And I should?”
“Yes, Duke. You should.”
The Duke fumed for a moment, angrily wondering why on Earth he had to apologize in the first place. If anything, Dutch should be grateful he’s paying this much attention to him. If it were anyone else, they would have already succumbed. Why not him, though? It was all so incredibly annoying, annoying, annoying.
He took a deep breath. Alright, no. Rayon was right. He should apologize. That was respectful thing to do and he was all about respect.
“Fine, I will.”
“Should I even ask what you did?”
The Duke didn’t even deign to answer that question and merely hung up there and then. He was more preoccupied with how he was supposed to go apologize to Dutch in the first. Of course, he could just waltz into the Burners’ garage without a care in the world and demand Dutch’s attention. But that just might make him angrier and even more cautious around him. He didn’t want that.
Was this morning even that bad of an idea? He only did what he had felt like doing at the time. He just very honestly wanted to kiss him. So, he did. Just like that.
He got punched thereafter, sure, but that kiss also confirmed what he’d been feeling for a while now.
“Sir, there are two Burners waiting outside. Should I let them in?” No. 2’s voice echoed down that wide hallway.
“Burners?” Duke stood up excitedly. Maybe Dutch had finally come around, then. “Yes, let ‘em in right now. This instant!”
The blond-brunet adjusted himself, flipping his hair back and pushing his glasses back up as he made his way down the stairs leading up to his throne. Two figures were coming up to meet him and only then did No. 2’s words register with him. She’d said two Burners. Two. Not one. Two. It looked like to him like Dutch brought Chilton with him. Alright, that was fine. It’s not like Mike’s presence was going to hinder him in any way. The Duke did what he wanted.
“Well, if it isn’t Dutch!” Duke said with a bright smile, his arms wide open and welcoming, though Dutch merely glanced away in reaction. “And Chilton, you too.”
Mike raised a confused brown. “Uh, ok.”
The Duke held a hand out and a henchwoman appeared out of nowhere with a freshly trimmed rose. The blond-brunet took it, then quietly gestured the woman away and slithered over to Dutch’s side. He bowed deeply, taking a whiff of the flower before presenting it to the Burner. “For you, cheri.”
Dutch didn’t want to accept it, but the Duke’s low gaze eventually beckoned him over. He reluctantly took the rose and slid over to a more acceptable distance away. No one spoke for a moment. Dutch too busy shrugging awkwardly and the Duke preoccupied with grinning like a fool. Mike looked at both of them unable to understand how it had come down to this. He cleared his throat. “Dutch, we came here for a reason, remember?”
“Oh right.”
“I’m all ears, Dutch baby.”
Dutch spoke through clenched teeth. “I need a part.”
The Duke’s grin grew only wider. “I knew you would say that.” He leaned back. “So, why’d you bring Chilton along? Afraid of being with me alone?”
“I ain’t afraid!”
“Whoa, down, you two! What is even going on here?” Mike examined both their expressions.
The Duke laughed. “Not telling if he won’t. So, what part is it, hm?”
“The A-Model Sonic Turbo Booster, DB45.” Dutch replied, glancing at the Duke from the corner of his eye.
“Ah yes,” The Duke looked back at Dutch from over his glasses. “And what exactly do you plan on giving me in return? I mean, you don’t really think I’m just going to hand you over a rare part because I like you, right?”
“No, I didn’t think that.”
Mike gaped. “Because he… Wait, what?”
“Oh, sorry, mon amour.” Duke smirked. “It slipped.”
-0-
Dutch retreated to the only place he could retreat to— his studio.
He had to be alone with his thoughts, his art. He had to take his mind off things. Let his feelings clear up. Yeah, clear up. Then, he could back to the garage and be (at least) substantially less disturbed by the Duke’s advances. He didn’t get it though. Why him? It’s not like the Duke ever paid him any attention before. Then again, considering the Duke’s wayward personality, maybe it shouldn’t surprise him at all. Alright then, in that case, what did he think about all of this?
What did he think about—
“Well my, I am flattered!” The Duke’s voice swooped in with a resounding blast. “It almost looks as good as the real thing.”
“Duke!” Dutch pulled off his gas mask, looking up at the Duke who had slid right up to him, before glancing back at his canvas. “When did I…?”
It was the Duke’s bust, painted in flashy blues and yellows.
“Drawing me unconsciously, are you? Oh, cheri, why don’t you admit you’ve fallen for me too?” The Duke tipped Dutch over into his arms. “Et alors, qu’est-ce que tu penses de moi, au fait?”
Dutch tried to keep hold of what coolness he had left. “Your accent is terrible.”
“But it doesn’t make me any less fluent, Dutch baby.”
“You’re fluent in French?”
“Mais oui,”
Dutch rolled his eyes, totally unconvinced. The Duke dipped him almost to the floor, leaning his face closer to his. His pleased grin was practically plastered on his face. Dutch felt like he’d lose if he looked away from that gaze, so he just stared back. If anything, he wasn’t going to doubt the Duke’s sincerity. Maybe giving in wouldn’t be so bad.
Dutch closed his eyes and The Duke swooped in, laying his lips against his roughly— wasting no time to stick his tongue through Dutch’s teeth and kissing him deeply. The Duke cupped the back of the Dutch’s head, stroking the back of his ear while the other hand traveled from his chin, down his neck, to his shoulder, down his chest and lower…
The Duke pulled Dutch up and cornered him at the wall behind them. He pressed himself against him, bringing his hands down to his Dutch’s waist.
Dutch wasn’t having that. He flicked the Duke’s glasses up to stop him. “That’s all you’re getting.”
Duke frowned. “Wow, stingy. What if I gave you that part you want, hm?”
“I don’t need so much that I’d sell myself to you for it.”
Dutch crossed him arms and looked up at him defiantly. The Duke grinned again as he adjusted his glasses. “You’re not ‘selling yourself’, cheri. I thought we agreed you liked me back.”
“Nuh-uh. I said nothing, man.”
“Ah, but that bust of me over there disagrees.”
And Duke leaned down again to kiss him. Dutch kissed him back, his own arms unraveling to reach up around the Duke’s neck. They parted for a moment, their lips still only barely a centimeter apart. And the Duke whispered. “See, I told you so.”
“Shut up,”