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"Falling, Catching"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: Drama Pairings: 2x3, 5+6 Summary: A series of scenes in a post-canon world. Not in chronological order.
"Falling, Catching"
Two "What is it?" Duo rolled his eyes at the wariness in Trowa's voice, at the way the other man straightened up and looked prepared to take on an enemy. "It's called a birthday present. Apparently, it's a thing people do. They celebrate their date of birth by telling people to give them shit. So, here." Instead of trying to put the small, wrapped box in Trowa's hand, Duo simply threw it at him. Acting out of reflex, Trowa caught the box before it hit the ground. Cautiously, he shook it, and the box's contents rattled against the confining cardboard. "Just- just open it." Trowa ran his fingers over the paper that Duo had hastily taped over the box. The box itself was the recently-emptied package of tea that Wufei had given Duo a few months ago. It had been the only thing on hand that was the right size, and hopefully the shiny silver paper made it gift-appropriate. "I don't have a birthday," Trowa murmured. "Sure you do. Says it right in your Preventers files. June 23rd." Trowa frowned, and looked through his bangs at Duo. "That's not my-" "It's Trowa Barton's birthday, so unless you've decided to go by some other dead guy alias this week, it's your birthday. Okay? Or should I start asking for Greg to fuck me harder? Or maybe tell Tony to get down on his knees? Or thank Alex for-" Trowa's lips twitched, amusement warring with his doubt. "Just… just open it?" "I didn't get you anything," Trowa pointed out. Duo rolled his eyes again. "It's not my birthday, it's your-" "When is your birthday?" Trowa interrupted him. The question caught Duo off-guard and he tensed, forcing a shrug that he knew wasn't at all casual. At least not to Trowa. Sure enough, the taller man narrowed his eyes. "Never thought to give myself one," Duo muttered. "My dead guy name didn't come with one," he added. It was probably the wrong thing to say - like most of what Duo said. "What does your file say?" Trowa asked after a moment, his voice almost gentle. Duo shrugged again, before shoving his hands into his pockets. "Probably something like 'permanently on probation.'" "Duo." He sighed. "Look, this isn't about me - this is about your fake birthday. And, hey, if you don't want the fucking gift, I can just take it back and-" Duo reached out for the box but Trowa pulled it close to him, cradling it against his body protectively. "I want it," Trowa assured him, his voice so sincere Duo didn't know whether to smirk or prepare himself for one of those dark conversations that they trapped each other into every once in awhile. "Then- then just open it, will ya? I got things to do today, you know. I can't sit around all damn day waiting for you to open a box." Trowa looked on the verge of saying something else, of steering them into the darkness, but instead he fingered the edge of the silver paper, easing it open carefully, as though it was some confidential document and this was a covert mission. Duo waited, as patiently as he could, which meant balancing on the balls of his feet and digging his fingers into his thighs through the fabric of his pants. Trowa paused when he had the paper off, ran his finger over the Mandarin characters on the tea box but didn't comment, didn't react aside from that small gesture and the tightening of his lips. He opened the box and, holding one hand level, tilted the box over his palm. A rock tumbled out. It was smooth, a dark, cloudy green streaked with black and cream specks and streaks. Trowa stared down at it, and Duo stared at Trowa staring at the rock. "What is it?" Trowa asked again. "A rock." Trowa looked up at him, that exasperated look that usually had Duo grinning back at him, but now… now Duo was starting to think this whole damn thing was stupid and that he was an idiot, and what the hell had he been thinking? "What kind of rock?" Trowa clarified. "Diopside. It's…" Duo drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "It's associated with, uh, love. And commitment." Duo stared down at the rock, unable to look at Trowa again, to risk seeing Trowa's honest reaction to it before he masked it. The rock still in one hand, Trowa reached out with his other and tugged Duo's right hand out of his pocket. Duo looked down at their hands, at Trowa's nimble fingers as they knit together with his. "Thank you." Two words, said softly, that gave away absolutely nothing. Duo risked a glance upwards and saw that Trowa was watching him, his thin lips curved into a subtle smile that nonetheless hit Duo like a freight train. "It's… okay?" Trowa looked at the rock again and nodded. He swallowed hard, his throat working for a moment, and then met Duo's gaze. "Yeah. It's okay." ~ * ~ Chapter 3 |
