“You mean you talked and Trowa sat there and absorbed?” Because he has to say it or he might explode, in all actuality. This is still Duo Maxwell, after all, and snarking is his life blood.

Duo is… reeling if he’s honest. The confirmation that Quatre has been thinking about it, after he’s tossed Heero off and laughed at him about it, throws him for a loop. His mind is racing with the possibilities of why he would agree, of what the hell they would do if anything popped off again.

He’s busy thinking of everything his mind can spiral on, still, when Quatre centers in front of him. He can guess what’s coming, but it doesn’t stop the exasperated sigh anyway. Quatre’s folly is asking him to be rational in this situation, honestly, but he meets the blonde with a begrudging expression anyway.

“For now, apparently.” He’s troubled by all of this, clearly, but only around Quatre would he drop the mask long enough to actually frown and fuss about it.

“I guess right now what’s more important is getting a plan in order. Between all of us.”