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"Drabbles"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 A/N: For
Crown of Winterthorne, who requested 2x3 for #27, "Oh, fuck yes.
Bite me again." Warnings: language,
sex, religious things (do I need to warn for that?) Pairings: 2x3
It was their fourth date, if you counted meeting on the dance floor and trading blowjobs as a date - as their first date - and Trowa very much did. The second date had been tamer, had been dinner and a movie, and had been thoroughly PG until Duo hauled Trowa into the backseat of his car and gave him a rim job that left Trowa praying to God not to let him fuck this up and lose such a generous lover. The third had been lunch, on a Sunday after church, after church service, and Duo had been recognized by some young, golden happy family at the table beside theirs, had been called Father Maxwell, and Trowa's entire world had come to a screeching halt. Duo had looked guilty, had bit his lip and met Trowa's furious stare and said that they should talk, later, away from his parishioners, and Trowa had been vicious in his hurt and anger, and asked in a quiet voice if Duo was worried his congregation might not appreciate their pastor ministering to Trowa on his knees in a bathroom stall, and he had left, the sight of Duo's wide eyes and gaping mouth his last of the other man. A week of silence, of Trowa pulling up Duo's contact on his phone and thumbing over to delete and then hesitating, putting the phone away again and forcing himself to stop thinking about it. +About him. A week of Trowa thinking about Duo in the shower, of fingering himself and desperately wishing it was Duo's tongue or his cock. A week of dreaming about his wicked smile. A week of wondering how the fuck that man was a preacher - or a minister - or- or whatever the fuck he was. Until Duo called. He didn't text, which Trowa thought was both a dick move and smart. Trowa could ignore a text, but he answered the call reflexively - he was an ER nurse, after all. He always answered his phone without even looking at the caller ID. He wanted to talk, wanted to explain, and he- he missed Trowa. Hadn't been able to stop thinking about him, and he was an idiot and he had fucked things up, and would Trowa- could they just talk? So here Trowa was, parking his car in the driveway of a small house beside the small, Episcopal church that, after a depressingly-fast Google search, Trowa had learned was Duo's. The rectory. He thought that was what it was called. Maybe it was a parsonage? Trowa didn't know much about religion. His own parents had been devout atheists, and Trowa had never had an interest in going against what seemed to him to be a perfectly logical and scientific way to view the world. Wikipedia had been helpful, but a little vague. Trowa walked up to the front door and knocked. Duo opened it a moment later, his smile a little tremulous, tension in his shoulders and face. He looked so casual, so incredibly fuckable in his black sweater and jeans and- floral apron? Trowa arched an eyebrow, and Duo laughed. "I, ah, I thought I would cook. I just got the chicken in the oven, so we have... some time, before I have to do anything." Time to talk, then. Trowa followed Duo into the house, relieved not to see crucifixes or paintings of Jesus all over the place. He didn't know if that was even a thing for Duo's type of Christian. He should have read the Wikipedia page more closely. In fact, the house seemed remarkably bare, the furniture unexceptional, and only an Ansel Adams photograph over the mantle served as decoration. Duo undid his apron and held it in his hands, twisting it. "Can I get you something to drink?" he asked. There had been drinks, that first night. Vodka. Trowa wondered, suddenly, if that was allowed. "Do you drink?" he asked Duo. Duo stared at him, brows drawn together in a frown, and then he laughed. "Oh, you think, because of- No, no, of course I drink. I mean, I'm not an alcoholic or anything, but- I've got some white wine in the fridge, or beer?" He paused and offered Trowa a mischievous little smirk. "And there's some vodka in the freezer, if you needed something harder." Trowa swallowed, remembering Duo's cock that night, which had been plenty hard, and wondered if the innuendo was intentional. "Wine," Trowa managed to say. Duo nodded, and gestured to the couch before walking away, disappearing into the kitchen. Trowa sat on one far side of the couch, hating how comfortable the cushions were and how tempted he was to lean back and relax. "Here you go." Duo was back, putting a glass in his hand and sitting down on the other end, giving Trowa plenty of space. "You wanted to talk," Trowa prompted Duo when the other man just sat, silent and watchful. "Talk." Duo's lips twitched, but he nodded and, after a sip of wine, he started to. "You're freaked out, I'm guessing, by my work." "You say that like it's just a job - like it's not who you are." Duo arched an eyebrow at him and leaned back, sinking into the cushions and looking comfortable and sexy, and Trowa looked away and took a too-large sip of his wine. "Well, what about your job? You're an ER nurse. You save lives, you change the world - are you telling me that's just for what - ten, twelve hours? And then you turn it off and don't give a fuck about humanity?" Trowa flinched at the word coming from Duo's mouth. Fuck. There was something incredibly dirty about it, and Trowa shivered. But also- "It's not the same," he insisted. "No? So if you saw someone hurt in the park or by the side of the road, you wouldn't stop to help them?" "Of course I would. That's- that has nothing to do with my job." "I know. It's just who you are." Trowa did not appreciate having his own words thrown back at him. "Everything we did - fucking in the club, in your car - all of that is okay with God, or whatever?" Duo's eyes sparkled as he took another sip of his wine. "Yeah, I think The Dude is okay with me fucking you." "Did you- The Dude?" And now Trowa had the inescapable mental image of Jeff Bridges with a halo around his head. "'S what I call him when we talk," Duo shrugged. Trowa shook his head. This was too- It was too much. Too strange. "Look, I get it, Trowa. You're very rational, very logical. You analyze things, and you take them apart and figure out how to put them back together and how to fix them, right?" Trowa nodded. "And you think religion - God and belief and faith - you think it's the antithesis of all that, don't you?" Trowa had to nod again. "In some ways, it is," Duo agreed. "But in some ways, it's not. Rationality - reason - is at the very core of my belief, Trowa. God is everywhere. He's in the smallest cell of a bacterium of the ocean and the largest supernova, and everything in between. He's in all of our feelings, our memories. He's the difference between nothing and everything, and believing in him allows me to understand, to accept all of the things that logic can't define." Trowa swallowed hard, and he looked away from Duo's earnest gaze. "I see death, every day," Trowa said, his voice rough and raw, more vulnerable than he wanted it to be. "Is your God in that too?" "Yeah," Duo said, his simple answer taking Trowa by surprise. "He is. He's in all of the wonderful things that happen, and all of the terrible, unspeakable things, too. He doesn't cause them, but He stands beside us while we endure." "So you think God just... lets us do these things to each other? God just lets us kill children, but it's okay, because he's standing beside the grief-stricken mother whose life will never be the same?" "No, it's not okay." Duo shifted, moving closer, and Trowa could see the concern in his eyes, the sympathy. "It's never okay. But- but look. If we lived purely by science, by logic, then we would turn our backs on those in need, wouldn't we? To better preserve the strength and prosperity of the rest of humanity? Tell me, Trowa, what logic is there in spending millions of dollars and countless hours of research on drugs that are palliative, that seek to ease the pain of someone dying from an incurable disease? Isn't it more logical to simply end their suffering, immediately? To use those resources to make life better for people who have a chance?" Trowa cringed at the very notion. He shook his head. "No. No, that's- that's cruel and barbaric." Duo smiled softly and nodded. "Do you know what the Great Commandment is?" Trowa shook his head. "What about the Golden Rule?" "Treat others the way you want to be treated?" "Yeah. Well, the heart of my faith - the heart of my religion, is the Great Commandment, from Matthew. Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy mind. And, the second part, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself." Trowa frowned. "It's- do you know Kierkegaard?" "The existentialist?" Duo nodded and smiled slightly, clearly pleased. "Yeah. So he had this whole thing - we needed to love our neighbors as ourselves, but what if you don't like yourself very much? Does that mean you should be shit towards humanity? No, of course not. So, the thing is, God has commanded you to love and, if you truly love him, if you truly believe, then you love all of humanity - including yourself - through him." Trowa wasn't sure he understood, not entirely. But, at the very least, it didn't sound... too crazy. "I still- I'm having a hard time reconciling this with what we've done - with the guy I met in the club, or the guy who had his tongue buried in my ass." Duo grinned, the expression easy and his eyes warm, and Trowa knew he was thinking back, was remembering those nights and growing aroused. Trowa swallowed hard and tried not to let himself give in to the same desire. "Two things," Duo said, and held up two fingers on his right hand. "One, I'm a priest, not a saint. I like sex, and The Dude knows that and we're cool with it, which I already said. And two, God commanded me to love, didn't he?" The last was said with a wink, and Trowa didn't know if he had ever heard such an awful line before. "Did you really just-" Trowa shook his head. "That was incredibly lame." Duo chuckled. "I know, I know. It's just... it's hard to be smooth in the face of all you've got going on," Duo waved an arm in Trowa's direction. Trowa arched an eyebrow at that, and Duo rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on. You know how unbelievably sexy you are. Even just sitting there and wondering if I'm going to whip out a Bible and try to convert you, you're hot." "Are you? Going to try to convert me?" Duo scoffed. "There are a lot of things I want to try with you, Trowa, but I'm no evangelical. I'd be happy to talk to you more about God, but if you aren't interested, I'm not going to make it an issue." "That's okay? For you to be dating an atheist? For you to marry one?" Duo grinned, and Trowa realized how that had sounded. "Jumping the gun a bit, aren't you?" Duo asked him, and Trowa rolled his eyes. A timer sounded from the kitchen, and Duo got to his feet. He walked around the couch, passing by Trowa and leaning down to tilt his face up with one finger. "And yeah, it's okay for me to be dating an atheist. By the time we get married, maybe I can nudge you towards being an agnostic, but if not, it'll make my meetings with the General Convention more interesting." Trowa had no idea what that was, but he didn't much care, especially when Duo leaned down and kissed him, his mouth teasingly soft. Trowa arched up, chasing after Duo as he pulled away and stood back up. Duo grinned down at him. "I need to go and put in the potatoes," he said as he stepped back. "You can join me in the kitchen or," he gestured towards the bare house, "you can wander around." Trowa decided he very much wanted to join Duo. He picked up his wine glass, and Duo's, and followed him into the kitchen. Duo put the floral apron back on, and Trowa wondered if there was a story there. Trowa held out Duo's wine glass and he took it back, sipped from it and then set it to one side while he started to peel a few potatoes. Too many, really, for just the two of them to be eating. "Are you expecting more company?" Trowa had to ask. Duo shook his head. "Not tonight - although I do have parishioners over for dinner sometimes. More often, I'm out, though, having dinner with them. Tonight - Tuesday nights - those are just mine, though. Ours," he added, with a hopeful look up at Trowa. Trowa met his gaze, and allowed himself a small, hopeful smile in response. Duo grinned and turned away. "But I'm also making enough for leftovers - got a meeting with a kid tomorrow afternoon and he never has enough to eat, so..." Duo shrugged, as if it wasn't anything. As if it meant nothing. Trowa swallowed hard, and had to wonder again how this was possible. Before, he had been a little awed by Duo's attentiveness, by the amazing head he gave and then, on their next date, by the incredibly thorough rim job and Duo's determination to leave Trowa completely sated and boneless. He was good, Trowa couldn't help but think - not just good at sex, but a good person. And maybe that was the difference. It was intimidating as hell, and Trowa wasn't sure he measured up. He knew himself - knew he was selfish and could be petty, could be cruel, and- well, Duo knew that now, too, after their disastrous lunch. Duo set the potatoes aside, and peeled and diced several large carrots. Trowa stepped back as Duo reached behind him for olive oil and spread some into a frying pan before heating it on the stovetop. Trowa moved to the other side of the kitchen, giving Duo room as he browned the carrots and potatoes. He watched as Duo pulled a large, cast iron dutch oven from the heated oven and removed the lid. It smelled amazing, whatever was already inside, and Duo dumped the vegetables in with it before replacing the lid and then the entire pot into the oven. He set a timer, and then moved over to rinse off the pan, knives and cutting board. "Smells good," Trowa said, moving over with him, leaning against the counter beside Duo and picking up a towel to dry the dishes off. Duo looked grateful. "Thanks. It's roast chicken - Julia Child style, they way my mom used to make it." "Used to?" Trowa asked. Duo shrugged one shoulder. "She died, when I was ten. Her and my dad." Trowa was reminded of last month, when a drunk driver had hit a family of four head-on, killing the mother and father on impact, and leaving two teenagers orphans. "I'm sorry." "It's okay. Took me a hell of a long time to stop blaming The Dude for it, though," Duo admitted with a weak laugh. Trowa nodded. He could imagine. Duo's shoulders were tense again, and he probably thought he had said too much. Trowa leaned over and kissed the side of Duo's neck, on the sensitive spot he had discovered that first night at the club, and Duo shivered under him. "Mm." Trowa licked at the spot and then, wondering how Duo would react, he bit down. "Oh fuck, yes. Bite me again." It was part plea, part command, and Trowa reached past Duo to turn off the running water before he pulled Duo close and tilted his head back so that he had better access. Trowa found his pulse point again and bit down, harder this time, and Duo's fingers curled into his back. "Fuck. Fuck, yes." It still felt wrong, still felt indescribably dirty to hear Duo say fuck now that Trowa knew he was a priest, but it also felt very, very good. He moved to the other side of Duo's neck, laving at the same spot before biting down, leaving a matching set of indentations. Duo strained under him, moaning in pleasure, and it felt like that first night all over again. All thought and logic drowned by a wash of lust so strong it took Trowa's breath away. He cast an eye towards the timer on the oven. Forty-five minutes. Good. That was plenty of time. Even if it wasn't, he wouldn't mind skipping dinner and feasting on Duo instead. "I think I want a tour," he informed Duo, pulling back and looking down at him. "What?" Duo's eyes were hooded and dark, and he seemed to be having a hard time focusing. "Of your house. Give me a tour." "Oh. Uh. Sure." Duo took off his apron, tossing it onto the counter, and then he led the way out of the kitchen. "You've seen the living room," he gestured. "Bathroom's down here, and a guest room." They were as characterless as the living room. "Your room?" Trowa asked. "Upstairs." Duo hesitated, then saw the look in Trowa's eyes and finally caught on. "Let me show you." -o-
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