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"What May Come"Written By: Clara Barton Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing. The following
is an intellectual exercise with no intention of profit. That said,
these characterizations, words, and situations are mine. Please ask
before reprinting. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Language, angst, violence, sex Pairings: 2x3x2 Summary: Almost two years after the war, Trowa Barton decides to move on and enrolls at Amaris University, located on the former Lunar Base. He quickly learns that the past isn't so easy to run away from, especially not when the past confronts him in the form of Duo Maxwell. A/N: This has been in my head for years. I'm
sorry it isn't an update to any of my WIPs but… it's a challenge
to get back in the heads of characters who I haven't lived with in
a while. For now, all I can do is try to write - but rest assured
that I am looking over my old work and making notes and preparing
to update. Eventually. I'm sorry I can't promise more. "What May Come " Chapter Fifteen Trowa rarely fantasized and even more rarely found himself dreaming about sex, but as he woke up he found himself still tangled in lustful thoughts of long, strong legs and long fingered hands. The bed was warm and he found himself wedged against something firm and smooth and he pressed forward experimentally, searching for friction. And immediately realized that he was grinding against Duo's ass. He snapped completely awake and eased his body away, his heart racing and his brain trying to assemble some kind of explanation for what the hell he had just done. Duo's entire body was rigid and his breathing was shallow and controlled. Trowa could feel how tense Duo was, could feel the set of his abdominal muscles through his t-shirt, the warmth and firmness radiating outwards to Trowa's hand, resting on Duo's side. He stared at his hand, wondering when and how that had happened. How had any of this happened? Or a better question, how had this not happened before? They were twenty and had been sharing a bed for months - how had Trowa never woken up like this before? Because he always woke up alone. Even before they had started to share Kippernick's bed, Duo was always gone by the time Trowa woke up. He wondered - did he do this to Duo every morning? Was this just the first time he had woken up before Duo escaped from him? He felt a wave of nausea at that thought. Trowa could only imagine Duo's anger, his own disgust and his fear. They weren't supposed to be like this. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "It's fine." Duo's voice was as tense as his body. "I just didn't want to get up yet. I - it's just morning wood, man. I've got the same problem over here." For some reason that knowledge did not make Trowa relax any. He stared at his hand again, at the way his thumb rested just on the hem of Duo's shirt and he eased it down, slipping it under the hem and touched Duo's skin. Duo sucked in a breath, but he didn't move away and Trowa was suddenly hyper aware of their proximity, of the way Duo's hair tickled his nose, of the soft cotton of Duo's shirt against his chest, of the tent in Duo's shorts. Trowa eased his thumb farther under, searching for a curved scar he had seen on Duo's lower back. He found it and ran the pad of his thumb over the soft, slick tissue. "Shrapnel," Duo answered Trowa's unspoken question. Trowa moved his entire hand upwards and around, until he found a mass of scar tissue on Duo's lower ribs. It was a large and flat, with the whorls of a burn scar. "Chemical fire, back when I started working with the Sweepers." He traced across that scar and to the next, a small, dimpled circle that was repeated on Duo's body and on Trowa's. "Base infiltration. I got in just fine, but I made some friends on the way out." He swallowed hard and eased his hand downward, towards Duo's groin. Duo's left hand grabbed his wrist, his fingers gripping him tightly enough that he had to hold still. "You don't have to do that," Duo said and his voice sounded like an open wound. Trowa considered Duo's words. He didn't have to. Did Duo think this was some kind of transaction? Some way for Trowa to apologize? For him to gain the upper hand? Did Trowa think that himself? They had spoken about sex in the past, had joked about it and hinted at the awfulness of it, but Trowa had never pictured the two of them having it. "Do you want me to?" Duo drew in a ragged breath. "I don't know," he admitted, but after a moment he relaxed his hold on Trowa's wrist. His fingers remained, but his grip was looser, and Trowa could move his hand again. The only question was, should he move it away from Duo? Or continue on his initial path? "Lift your hips." Duo complied and Trowa tugged down his shorts and boxers, allowing Duo's erection to spring free. He took a moment to look down at it. He had seen Duo naked countless times by this point, but only in the pool, where the cold water showcased absolutely nothing about either of their cocks, even if they had been erect. It was similar to his own, a little slimmer and a little longer, but close enough in size that it felt familiar as he fit his palm around the stiff length. He felt Duo shudder at the contact. Trowa gave an experimental tug and Duo's fingers tightened again. It took him a few minutes to find the right pressure and the right pace. Duo was holding himself almost completely still and the sounds he made were barely audible - ragged inhales and even more ragged exhales, but no noise, no words. Nothing that would indicate he was experiencing pleasure, but also nothing to signify fear or disgust, or pain. Finally, Trowa found the right rhythm and Duo's hips were flexing and his fingers were digging into the skin around Trowa's wrist and then he came with a shudder and a sigh. They continued to lie in the bed, silent and still, until Duo moved Trowa's hand away and sat up, his back to Trowa. Trowa fought the urge to apologize, but he knew the tense set of Duo's shoulders was not an expression of thanks or pleasure. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" Duo muttered, and Trowa could see that he was struggling to breath. "What did I do wrong?" Trowa needed to know. Duo shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing. Jesus - that's the first time anyone has ever touched me like that and not - not hurt me and I'm having a fucking panic attack over a hand job." Trowa swallowed hard and pushed back all of the darkness Duo's words made him remember. "You have to regulate your breathing, Duo. Don't think about it - don't think about any of it. Just breathe. In and out. In and out." He watched Duo's back, watched him continue to fight and he saw the moment when Duo regained control of himself. "I... I'm going to take a shower." Duo rose from the bed and pulled his shorts back up before walking out of the room. Trowa fell back onto the bed and tried to ignore the crushing weight of defeat. What the hell had he done?
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