"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: R

A/N: For Cylina Nightshade, who requested #3, "I want you. Right up against the window."

Warnings: language, sex

Pairings: 2x3

"What kind of asshole misses his own birthday party?"

It was Hilde, who wasn't being helpful, and I glared at her across the table.

"Not helping," I muttered as I dialed, yet again.

The call, yet again, went right to voicemail.

"This is Trowa Barton. Leave a message." Direct and succinct. As economical with words as he was with anything else.

"Hey, babe, it's me. Just... wondering where you are. If you're okay. If you're alive." I hoped he was - I had plans to kill him myself, later, and I didn't want them ruined by his untimely death. Plus, I'd feel like an asshole.

I hung up and looked around the table.

Cathy, Trowa's sister and my long-time adversary, was looking particularly smug, and I wanted to point out that her brother had stood up not just me, but her as well. I wanted to, but I kept my mouth shut.

Heero, the mutual friend who had set up Trowa and I on our first date, had dragged me along on a hiking trip where I'd made an idiot of myself and fallen into poison ivy and, after a rather heated nice to meet you, hope to see you again soon exchange of phone numbers and saliva and, unfortunately for Trowa, poison ivy, didn't look all that surprised. He had warned me, on day one, that Trowa was only social and charming when he wanted to be - and he didn't want to be all that often.

Quatre, Trowa's best friend since childhood and, I had always thought, probably his first love. Quatre gave me a supportive smile, and I had the uncharitable thought that if Quatre had arranged this whole thing, Trowa would have shown. Wouldn't have dared to break his precious heart.

Wufei, another mutual friend, who looked irritated at having his time wasted.

And Hilde. Who looked like this was exactly what she had expected.

"Look, you all go ahead and get started," I gestured to the menus on the table. "I'm just going to... go down to his office and see if he's still there."

"I can go with you and-" Quatre started to stand up, but I held out a hand.

"No, no. It's okay."

I did not need Quatre's help fetching my prodigal boyfriend.

I left the restaurant - the very expensive restaurant that had taken a lot of called-in favors to book a table at - and hailed a cab.

It was a twenty-minute ride to the campus of the tech startup where Trowa worked, and while I wasn't surprised to see so many lights still on this late at night, I was still irritated.

Security buzzed me through - I'd made friends with most of them six months ago, when I'd dropped by Trowa's office for lunch and dropped off a box of donuts for them - and I made my way up to the third floor, weaving through banks of cubicles until I reached the far end of the floor and the row of offices that separated the higher-ups from the ordinary coders.

Sure enough, the light was on under his closed door.

I sighed and knocked, not surprised when there was no answer.

I knocked again, louder, and there was still no answer.

I was willing to bet he had his headphones on. Probably had Debussy or Dvorak or whatever blaring away as he worked.

I eased open the door and sighed.

Yep. Exactly as I had pictured him.

Headphones on, hair falling over his face after having won the day-long war with the hair gel he had put in this morning, suit jacket abandoned and his shirt sleeves rolled up haphazardly, and a clutter of empty coffee mugs just out of reach of his hands as he typed away.

He was cute, sexy even, if not for the crease between his brows and the tired, glazed look in his eyes.

I closed the door behind me, letting it slam, and that finally registered with him.

He jumped, eyes flying over to me and widening in confusion.

"Duo?" He removed his headphones.

"The one and only," I confirmed.

"What are you-" He looked away from my face and to the digital clock on his desk.

8:47.

"Shit," he muttered, and ran a hand over his face.

"Yep," I agreed.

"I was supposed to meet you," he frowned and reached for his phone. "Canlis. Shit. Duo-"

I held up a hand to forestall another apology.

"Don't worry about it."

He gave me a look.

He had been the one to say he wanted to try the place, had been the one to comment that it seemed like the perfect place for a celebration, and I'd thought- I'd hoped he was hinting at something, but my birthday had come and gone, Valentine's too and our anniversary. So I had gotten off my ass and made a reservation, had had to call a few members of the board for the school where I worked until I finally got a table for all of us for Trowa's birthday, and I'd had to go out and buy a suit for the occasion, because, as the maitre'd tartly informed me over the phone, there was a dress code at Canlis.

Trowa's eyes looked me over, took in the fact that I wasn't in my standard jeans and sweater, and he sighed.

"I'm so sorry. I-"

"I said, don't worry about it."

I had long ago stopped having this fight with him. For the most part, his work was okay - it was interesting and he loved it, and hell, even I could admit the money was nice. But every few months, when the company launched a new product or market, Trowa's hours jumped from fifty a week to eighty or more, and really, it was just pure bad luck that it had coincided with his birthday. With my attempt to make a big gesture or whatever.

He sighed again, and looked back at the open screen on his computer.

I knew that look.

"How much more do you have?" I asked.

"A few hours. I-"

"No problem. You want me to order Chinese, or-"

"You don't have to stay. I can get food, or-"

"Trowa, you cannot get food. The last time you gave me that line you forgot to eat for two days."

He look chagrined, and I pulled out my phone to text Hilde.

Not going to make it back. Tro stuck at work.

Almost instantly, she responded.

Did you pop the question or decide to dump him? You know which way I'm voting.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. As usual, not helping.

Tell everyone else I'm sorry. And we'll see them at Cathy's on Sunday.

That would make Cathy smug - she had been the one to tell me it was stupid to try to do something during the week, anyway. Had said that she would have a cookout for Trowa at her house, like she did every year, and there just wasn't any reason for us to go out to some fancy restaurant when Trowa's favorite food was hot dogs anyway.

It had taken all of my willpower not to correct her.

Trowa's favorite food hadn't been hot dogs since he was five. These days, he had developed an obsession with duck, but trying to convince Cathy that her little brother wasn't a kid anymore was like trying to convince a brick wall to move.

I put my phone away, not really caring to see Hilde text back and tell me Trowa wasn't worth my time. I'd been listening to that mantra for two years now, and it was wearing thin.

"I'm not really in the mood for Chinese," Trowa sighed.

"Okay." I came around the desk and leaned against it, and he rolled his chair closer and pulled me down into his lap.

I hugged him, and he wrapped his arms around my waist.

"I'm sorry," he said again. "I know you wanted tonight to be a special thing for us."

Having everyone else there had been a surprise. It had been almost as difficult to round all of them up as it had been to get the reservation in the first place. No reason for him to know about that, however. It would only make him feel worse.

I kissed his forehead, then nudged his chin up until I could reach his lips.

He was tired. The kiss started slow, a little hesitant, and I almost felt like making a stand and demanding he go home and get some sleep. But then his hands were under my suit jacket, pressing me closer, and his lips parted for my tongue.

Okay. So maybe he had some energy left after all, I thought with a smug smirk, as he shifted under me.

We were both breathing hard when we parted, and I smirked again.

He chuckled and ran his thumb over my lips.

"Thank you."

I wasn't entirely sure what he was thanking me for, so I shrugged.

"I do what I can. So. You want me to order food and hang with you, or-"

"I'm not really in the mood to eat," he confessed, and I frowned. Him skipping meals was never a good thing where work was concerned. "I'm fine," he quickly added. "Just not very hungry."

"Okay," I conceded. "Then what can I get you? More coffee? Pop?" I added, making a face. "What do you want?"

I started to stand up, but he pulled me back into his lap.

"I want you."

I arched an eyebrow.

"You've got me, babe."

He shook his head.

"No. I want you. Right now, up against the window."

I looked over at the window that took up the corner of his office. It faced the parking lot, and I could very clearly see my battered Subaru down below. I was pretty sure the windows were tinted. Ish.

Then again, I'd been able to look up when I was outside and see the shadow of that damn ficus plant Cathy had given Trowa.

"Babe."

"You don't want to?" he asked, his hands moving around to my thighs and kneading the flesh.

"It's not that," I assured him. "You know it's not."

His hands moved higher, his right palm moving over my cock through the fabric, working me towards an erection.

"Then what? Afraid of being seen?"

I was. But then, I wasn't the exhibitionist that Trowa was. The man did not give a single fuck about the possibility of being caught screwing in public. We'd done it in cars, bathrooms, the beach - he'd given me head under the table at a restaurant, once, and I don't think I was ever going to forget that experience.

"You can spare the time?"

He gave me a look. "I'm sorry about dinner." His hands started to move away, and I reached out to catch them.

"No," I assured him. "I wasn't trying to make you feel guilty. I know fucking me doesn't take the same amount of time as eating a seven-course meal."

"It could," he murmured, pressing a kiss to my jaw. "I'd like it to."

I arched back as he ran his tongue from that spot to my ear, teasing at the lobe before taking it between his teeth and biting down.

"I can spare the time," he assured me.

I let him undress me, wishing like hell he did have the time to make this last because I doubted I was going to be putting on a suit again anytime soon, but he was quick, efficient as always, and soon enough I was naked and stroking my own cock while I watched him root around for lube.

"You're wearing a lot," I had to point out.

He smirked at me, still looking for the lube, and unfastened his trousers with one hand. I watched him reach in and pull out his cock, as hard and eager as my own.

"Not a problem," he assured me, and my mouth went dry.

The thought of him fucking me while he was fully clothed was incredibly arousing.

He finally found the lube and led me to the window. He stretched my hands out and up, showing me how to brace my body against the wall.

"You're so hot," he said, as he leaned over to kiss his way down my spine.

"You're not so bad yourself," I told him.

"Mm. But I'm not the one on display," he pointed out. I shivered. He was right. I sure as hell was.

Thank God it was night, at least.

Still, there were probably thirty cars in the lot outside, and I'd passed someone going out to make a food run when I came in.

I realized there was every chance that guy would return and look up to see my pale, naked self pressed against Trowa's window while he fucked me from behind.

Trowa slid one lubed finger against my anus, teasing at the pucker until I relaxed and he slipped inside.

I moaned in pleasure. Fuck, but he knew my body, knew how to have me on my toes and rocking into him with just one fucking finger.

I heard him chuckle, smug but a little breathless at the same time.

A second finger joined the first, plunging deep into my body.

"Fuck, Tro. Just- Come on, just fuck me already," I begged.

"You're sure?" he asked, teasing me, because he knew I was. As often as we fucked, it wasn't like I needed all that much prep anymore.

We'd stopped using condoms a while ago now, after that fight, after he'd told me he wanted me, and just me.

And so there wasn't a pause, wasn't a moment of fumbling with the foil, just his fingers gone one second and the next, the thick head of his cock spearing into me.

"Fuck!" I cried out. Maybe I hadn't been as ready as I thought, but Trowa pressed me against the window, held my body in place with his own, and I let my head fall back onto his shoulder.

"You're so impatient," he growled.

"I know," I agreed. "Fuck, don't I know it."

He chuckled, and gave a small, experimental roll of his hips.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," I breathed through the strain. "Yeah."

Of course, he could see the reflection of my face in the mirror, the tension between my eyes and around my mouth.

"You're such a bad liar," he muttered and, abandoning that plan, reached around to take hold of my softened cock.

"Yeah," I agreed. I couldn't remember a single fucking lie I had ever told successfully.

By the time I was hard again, I was ready for Trowa to move and I rocked back, letting him know.

"Oh, fuck, Duo," he breathed, the hand not on my cock clawing at my hair. "Your ass was made for my cock."

"Yeah it was, babe," I crooned, as he pulled out and then drove his cock back in again, hard and deep and fuck. Yes. Yes.

"I've wanted to do this to you since I got the office," Trowa groaned as he continued to fuck me, setting a brutal pace that left us with gasping from the effort.

"Yeah?" I wasn't surprised. But I wanted him to keep talking. Trowa was normally so quiet, so reserved, unless he was drunk or horny, and then he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Every day I've looked at this window and thought about shoving your naked body against it, wondered if you'd like the cold glass against your nipples."

"Fuck, yes," I moaned encouragingly. I did like the feel of the cool glass against my skin, but I liked his rough, unsteady voice more.

"You're a work of art, Duo, and I want everyone to know that you're mine. I want everyone to see me fucking you, to hear you screaming my name when you come."

"I'm yours, Tro," I breathed. "Yours."

"I know." He twisted my head around and pressed a savage kiss to my lips, his hips moving in a frenzied pace that had my body slapping against the glass.

His hand on my cock was still moving, still stroking me determinedly, his grip just this side of painful, just the way I liked it, and I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on that, on his hand working over my flesh.

"Come for me, Duo. I'm so close, and I want to feel you come. I want your ass clenched around me. I want you begging me to stop, I want- "

"Fuck, fuck, Trowa!" I came with a cry, and wasn't surprised when he covered my mouth with his hand to stifle it. Trowa really was an exhibitionist, but he wasn't an idiot - me screaming out his name wasn't going to do his career any favors if the two coders I had walked past before heard me.

He kept his hand in place, even after I had quieted, and gave a few more thrusts, grunting as he drove deep into my body, and then I felt him come, felt the quiet gasp of amazement and the pulse of his cock.

He held me, thrusting shallowly, until he was sated.

"Thank you," he said again, finally pulling his hand away.

My laugh was shaky. I was still a little breathless, more than a little overwhelmed.

"I'd say anytime, but then you'd get all kinds of ideas."

He laughed, and then groaned softly as he eased out of my body.

"Fuck, Duo. I love you."

"You love my ass," I teased.

"No," he corrected, and turned me around. "I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to marry you."

I stared. Those were supposed to be my words, supposed to be what I said to him later, after dinner, when we were home in bed and I had the darkness to hide my nerves.

"Tro-"

"You asked me what I wanted."

"Yeah, and you said you wanted to fuck me against your window."

"I'm greedy, I want more than that."

I laughed and he smiled, soft and tentative, just a little self-doubt in the expression. Just enough to tug at me.

"Yeah."

"Yeah? I'm greedy?"

"Yeah, you're greedy, but yeah, I'll marry you. Yeah, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

-o-

 

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Drabble 24

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