|
"The Green Door "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, sex Pairings: 2x5, 3x5, 2x3x5, Rx1, MxH Summary: Duo visits an adult novelty store for the first time. A/N: So, decided to write a sequel to this. I’ve
had a few people ask and, well, the mood struck me. "The Green Door " Chapter Two
“So, how does it feel to be old?”
Wufei arched his eyebrow at the question, at the smug look on Trowa’s face as the other man took a long sip of his beer, clearly savoring Wufei’s disgruntlement.
“I’m not old,” he balked.
It was Trowa’s turn to raise an eyebrow. He sat his beer bottle, now nearly empty, back on the table between them.
They were at Hop’s Place , the not-quite dive bar that Trowa preferred to visit when they went out during the week. The bar wasn’t Wufei’s favorite, from the dim lighting to the questionably-sticky floors, counters and tabletops, but it was close to Trowa’s house, and not that far from Wufei’s. He knew that part of the reason Trowa kept insisting they go there was because he enjoyed pushing Wufei to the edge of his comfort zone, enjoyed getting to smirk at Wufei as he gingerly, futilely tried to wipe off the surfaces he encountered. And Wufei, of course, was too damn stubborn to simply insist they go somewhere else. Like the bar literally across the street, that might be dull but at least was clean .
Of course, Hop’s Place featured a wide array of locally-brewed beers, including the craft beers that Trowa’s family made. His sister - the brains, as Wufei liked to say - ran the company, while Trowa traveled the region and, more recently, the country, setting up distribution deals.
“You turn thirty next week,” Trowa pointed out.
Wufei blinked in surprise, ready to deny it, but then he thought about it.
Shit .
He did turn thirty next week. He sighed and closed his eyes. That was probably why he had three new messages from his mother and two missed calls from his father.
They had had one of their regularly-scheduled family shouting matches two weeks ago, when Wufei came over for dinner only to be ambushed with Esther Cho, his mother’s newest attempt to lure him into heterosexuality. Esther, in her final year of residency, was everything Wufei’s parents wanted for him - from a good family, with a promising career in family medicine ahead of her and the proper, demonstrated respect for both her parents and his. The most frustrating thing about the entire dinner, Wufei was forced to admit - privately, and only inside his own head - was that, if Esther hadn’t been foisted off onto Wufei by his mother, if he had met her literally anywhere else, he would have been interested in her. She was funny, brilliant, and her smile left her eyes twinkling with mischief and her lips tilting just enough to convey deeper, more reserved amusement.
His mother had caught him staring at Esther one time too many, and after Wufei’s prospective bride left, Wufei helped his mother clear the table and the fight began. Because Wufei’s father said it was a sign of Wufei’s abhorrent ways that he wanted to help wash dishes, and then his mother argued that clearly Wufei was just confused - that he and Esther would settle down in no time, and the girl was clearly nothing like Meilan, who should be ashamed of herself, living openly with that woman - that white woman, no less, and-
And it had spiraled down from there. Wufei had left, hours and several broken plates later, in an angry huff, and he hadn’t answered their calls or texts since.
“You turned thirty two months ago,” Wufei had to point out to Trowa, desperate to change the topic, desperate not to think about the fact that he was getting old.
Trowa snorted and held up a finger to signal their waiter for another round.
“I know. I was there, drinking out of a cowboy hat, suffering through lap dances for two hours.”
Wufei rolled his eyes.
“Suffering? Is that what you call it? You sure as hell didn’t look like you were suffering.”
Trowa shrugged.
“That’s because I’m an exceptional actor.”
“You’re at least exceptionally delusional,” Wufei muttered.
Trowa reached across the table and tapped one long finger on Wufei’s nose.
“Pot,” the auburn-haired man said with a smirk, “meet kettle.”
Wufei rolled his eyes, ready to offer up a quip, but then his phone started to ring.
It was still fairly early, only eight at night, which meant the store was still open. Wufei made it a point to keep his phone always on and in easy reach during business hours, ever since the time that Meilan had locked herself out of the store in the dead of winter and had had to walk the two miles to Wufei’s house and interrupt an afternoon of athletic and rather fantastic sex with a man whose name Wufei couldn’t remember. Kevin? Colin? Quatre .
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, but didn’t recognize the number.
Still, he answered the phone.
“Hello?” He had also learned not to immediately answer with his own name, not after more than a few calls from acquaintances of his mother or angry, tearful calls from his own exes.
“Uh, Wufei?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded a little hesitant, male, and unfamiliar.
“Yes, this is Wufei. Who is this?”
“It’s Duo. Duo Maxwell. Well, Duo. I don’t think I told you my last name- I mean, it was on the credit card and all, but you- you probably didn’t even look and it’s-”
Wufei interrupted the rush of words, amused.
“Duo. What can I do for you?”
“Er, well, I was- You said I should give you a call, sometime, if I wanted to ask you out.”
Wufei frowned and tried to rack his brain. He didn’t remember a Duo. That previous weekend, at the club where Trowa’s band played, Wufei had flirted with quite a few people, men and women. For the life of him, he didn’t remember giving out his phone number, though. Not when he had gone there with the sole intention of going home with Trowa.
“I, uh, came by the store a few weeks ago? You helped me pick out something, and I sort of asked you out and-”
“ Duo ,” Wufei remembered now. The long-haired white guy, whose eyes were a fascinating shade of blue, and who had blushed and stammered his way through the lie of being at The Green Door to buy a vibrator for his friend . “Yes, I remember you.”
He had been mildly disappointed when Duo hadn’t called him sometime that next week, but had written the encounter and the other man off entirely after that. It wasn’t the first time a cute guy had asked him out at work, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Across the table, Trowa was putting on quite the show of examining his nails, a look of long-suffering boredom on his face. Wufei rolled his eyes at him, and Trowa smirked in response.
“Oh. Good. That’s good. I- How have you been?”
“I’ve been well. And you? Enjoying your Rude Boy?” Wufei had to tease.
Trowa’s eyes widened, and he shifted, leaning his elbows on the table, interest now fully on Wufei. Wufei kicked the other man under the table, but Trowa just trapped Wufei’s leg between his own, almost jerking him off of his own seat.
“I- Yeah, it’s been… really nice,” Duo admitted, and then chuckled ruefully. “I really appreciate your help.”
“Of course, I was happy to be of assistance. But that’s not why you called, is it?” he prompted.
“No- no, uh, no. Sorry. I used to be pretty good at this, or, well, I didn’t used to suck this much.” Wufei could hear the other man sigh in frustration, and he remembered Duo’s story, about his “friend” who had broken up with his boyfriend of two years.
“You’re doing fine,” Wufei assured him, trying to jerk his leg free of Trowa’s. The other man just reached under the table with his right arm and pressed his palm over Wufei’s thigh, slowly running his fingers over the inseam of Wufei’s jeans.
Wufei’s glare did nothing to deter him, and with a frustrated sigh of his own, Wufei shifted in his seat, opening his legs a little, trying to make himself more comfortable and maybe intentionally giving Trowa more access to his leg. And areas further north.
“So, uh, any chance you’d like to go out with me?”
“Yes,” Wufei said, “I would.”
Trowa had taken the hint, and, still smirking, was running his thumb further up the inseam of Wufei’s jeans, teasing at Wufei’s crotch.
Their waiter finally arrived with another round of beers, but Trowa didn’t pause in his teasing, fingers still sending sparks of sensation along Wufei’s nerve endings even as he winked at the waiter and thanked him for the drinks.
“Are you free this Saturday?” Duo asked.
“I am, any time after four.” Meilan was running a community event at the store Saturday night, an event specifically geared towards lesbian couples, and they had agreed that it would be best if Wufei let her man the store alone. Or woman the store, as it was. Instead, he was saddled with the Sunday shift, which meant he would not be staying out until 5am.
“Great, that’s great. We could get dinner, maybe? I work until six, but I could pick you up after that, or meet you somewhere?”
“Do you like sushi?” Wufei asked, breath catching as Trowa pressed just so . He flushed and glared at Trowa, who simply repeated the gesture until Wufei found himself squirming in his seat.
“I do, yeah. There’s this great place over on-”
“Main?” Wufei interrupted.
Duo laughed, and the sound had Wufei’s own lips curving in response. Duo’s laugh, even his embarrassed laugh, was nice. Warm, rich, washing over Wufei in a surprisingly pleasant way. Especially coupled with the things Trowa was doing to him.
Wufei inched his legs even farther apart, ignoring the glitter of suppressed amusement in Trowa’s eyes. The other man slid his hand over Wufei’s thighs, hand molding to the hardening bulge of Wufei’s cock.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Duo agreed. “Sushi on Main. I can call in reservations for us at seven?”
“Sounds good,” Wufei said, a little breathless now as he tried not to rock into Trowa’s hand slowly, maddeningly stroking over him.
“Great. I’ll meet you there. I’m looking forward to it, Wufei.” Duo said his name perfectly, syllables rolling off of his tongue in such a way that Wufei found himself shivering.
Trowa grinned openly, mistaking the expression for a reaction to his ministrations.
“Me too,” Wufei assured him, and then hung up the phone. He dropped it to the tabletop, wincing as it didn’t bounce but instead fell with a thud that even sounded sticky.
He glared at Trowa, who looked not at all repenentent.
Of course, the fact that Wufei was flushed, his cock hard and his breathing shallow, probably didn’t make Trowa feel all that regretful.
“You’re impossible,” Wufei growled.
“Don’t I know it,” Trowa agreed.
They had grown up together, had gone to high school and then college together, had spent years denying that there was any sexual attraction between them before finally giving in during their junior year of college. It had been a disaster. The sex had been amazing - spectacular, even - since they trusted each other enough to experiment, to push and give and take. But the fights had been spectacular in an entirely different way. Wufei, used to the shouting matches at home, used to Meilan always arguing with him over every single thing , had assumed that that was simply how people did things. It wasn’t how Trowa did things - Wufei yelled, and Trowa retreated. He hoarded his frustrations, his insecurities, and eventually, when they became too much, his anger was cold and miserable and cutting.
They were, perhaps, too familiar with each other. When they graduated, Wufei moved home and went into business with Meilan while Trowa went on to graduate school, traveling up to New York to get his MBA and coming back two years later.
Two years in which they had exchanged emails, texts and phone calls. Two years in which they had both realized that the only relationship between them that could realistically work was friendship.
With benefits , Trowa was always quick to add, smirking. Because the sex really was amazing.
And they cared about each other, understood each other, and, in ways that Wufei still couldn’t quite define, needed each other.
“So,” Trowa finally released Wufei’s leg and then jerked Wufei’s chair closer to his own. “Tell me about this Rude Boy of yours.”
-o- |
