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"Before Now"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: Angst, language, sex, angst Pairings: 1x2x3 Summary: Two stories of friendship,
love and loss told fourteen years apart. "Before Now" Before Barton's liked their beauty sleep. At least, that's what Cathy always muttered when, on Sundays, both she and Trowa slept in until almost noon before getting up. Of course, now that it was winter break, Trowa slept in until noon almost every day, as did Cathy. She at least had the excuse of working later, of not getting home until the early hours of the morning every day. But Trowa figured that his excuse - lazy teenager - was one he should try to hold onto and take advantage of for the precious few weeks that he could. Which meant that he was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed the Thursday morning he heard the doorbell ring. Repeatedly. Nonstop. Finally, after five minutes of it not stopping Trowa pushed himself up and stormed out of his room, into the living room and yanked the front door open, prepared to glare down whoever the hell thought it was funny to come by and screw with them. He was used to shit like this - used to their house getting tp'd or egged and people ringing the doorbell late at night and then running away laughing. He'd never had to deal with someone trying it at ten in the morning - but maybe it was kids from Granville High wanting to mess with him. Of course, as soon as he opened the door he let in a flood of air that was several degrees below freezing and his boxers and t-shirt were definitely not warm enough. He was also greeted with the sight of Duo and Heero, standing on his front porch, wearing jackets, gloves, scarves and toboggans. "Morning!" Duo said and gave him a bright smile that made Trowa want to murder him. Duo had always been obscenely perky in the mornings - had terrorized everyone on the bus when they had to leave for cross-country track meets at five in the morning - and Trowa figured it was likely Duo's only real flaw. Trowa looked at Heero, who he knew to be sane and logical, and arched an eyebrow. Heero sighed. "Duo wanted to go sledding." He stepped aside to reveal the sled he had propped up. It looked shiny and new. "Father Maxwell got it - thought it was weird I'd never been sledding before... 'course I think it's weird people want to hurl themselves down a mountain on this thing but..." "Monroe street is not a mountain," Heero muttered and rolled his eyes. "Might as well be," Duo replied. He turned back to Trowa. "Want to come?" The last time Trowa had been sledding had been two years ago. Michael Corner had dragged him along and Trowa had frozen his ass off, had spent the morning irritated because he was cold and not asleep but then Michael had kissed him, had rubbed his ice cube of a nose against Trowa's and grinned and the cold and the lack of sleep hadn't mattered anymore. "You'd have to put on some clothes," Duo continued, pulling Trowa out of the memory. Trowa arched an eyebrow. "I'd have to?" Duo shrugged. "I mean that or get frostbite and, I mean... do you want your balls to fall off?" Trowa felt his lips twitch. "Not really." Duo nodded. "Exactly. So get dressed and let's go!" Trowa found himself unable to refuse Duo, his bright eyes and wide grin. And even Heero, stoic and silent, looked hopeful. Trowa shrugged. "Okay." Duo's grin nearly split his face. "Just give me a few minutes." "Yeah, no problem. Heero and I can build a snowman or something." Heero looked skeptical about the plan, but as Trowa closed the door, Duo was already dragging him over to the snow piled high beside the road. Trowa dressed quickly and warmly, putting on a pair of track pants under his thickest jeans and then pulling on two sweaters before grabbing his jacket, gloves and scarf. After he put on his boots he knocked at Cathy's closed door. "What?" She croaked and he had to roll his eyes. The Barton's did indeed like their beauty sleep. "I'm going sledding with Heero and Duo." "'k. Don't die." Trowa joined the two boys outside and arched an eyebrow at the "snowman" they had build. It was fairly small, only coming up to Duo's knee, and horribly proportioned. "Hey," Duo held up a warning finger before Trowa could comment. "It's my first time. So the only thing you're allowed to say is 'that looks awesome Duo.'" Heero looked on the verge of laughing, which was a rare enough sight that Trowa found himself grinning. "That looks awesome, Duo." Duo smirked. "'Course it does. I'm a genius - and an artist." Heero rolled his eyes and picked up the sled. "Let's go before the ice melts." Trowa and Duo fell into step behind him. The walk was quiet, though Duo was humming what sounded like Christmas carols under his breath, and by the time they walked the mile over to Monroe street Trowa felt awake and invigorated from the cold and the exercise. Not surprisingly, there were a few others already at the hill. Monroe street was the road that led to the old textile mill that hadn't been in use for years, and as a result it almost never had much traffic. Trowa had gone sledding on Monroe street for as long as he could remember - he even had memories of his father teaching him how to sled when he was still a child - and he knew that Heero had been sledding there for almost as long. "Okay... how does this work?" Duo looked at the hill and the sled skeptically. "Like this," Heero said and, without any other explanation, took a running start and then thew himself onto the sled and went careening down the hill. "Okay, that looks suicidal," Duo muttered. "It's not," Trowa assured him. "It's fun." Duo didn't look entirely convinced, but then two young girls raced past them on a sled, screaming in glee, and Duo stumbled backwards to avoid them and tripped on the ice. Trowa reached out his right hand and helped him up. "I changed my mind. Homicidal. It looks homicidal. Did you see those two demons just try to run me over?" "You mean the three year olds?" "Yeah. Those demons." Trowa abruptly realized he was still holding Duo's hand. Duo looked down at their hands as well, but he made no move to pull away. Trowa felt the sharp, burning cold impact of a snowball with the back of his head at the same moment that he saw Duo's eyes go wide. Trowa let him go and turned around and saw Tom Berls and his friends standing by the side of the road, packing rocks into snowballs. "Nobody wants to see that fag stuff here," Tom Berls called out. Trowa felt himself blush, despite the cold, despite the fact that he absolutely did not want to care what Tom Berls and his friends thought about him. But more than that - he didn't want them to associate Duo with him. Didn't want Duo to have to put up with this, to hear what they said to Trowa. "Nobody wants to hear your bigoted, narrow-minded trash talk but that doesn't seem to stop you," Duo called back. Trowa felt his heart thud painfully, the fear and adrenaline of a potential fight coursing through his body but also - also Duo hadn't denied it. Hadn't stepped away and said that holding his hand meant nothing. "What's going on here?" Heero had arrived back at the top of the hill, dragging the sled behind him, and his presence startled Berls and his gang. Berls muttered something else about stupid queers, spat in Trowa's direction, and then walked away with his friends. "That's a pretty cool trick," Duo said. "Only good thing about my father," Heero muttered. "No one wants to get in trouble." Duo frowned, and Trowa found himself frowning as well. The only good thing about his father? "Right. Well, now that this is an asshole free zone, I guess I should try out the death machine." Duo grabbed the sled from Heero. "If I die - tell everyone it was cool and not lame, okay?" Heero rolled his eyes but Trowa nodded. "You died in a tragic sled accident while saving a cat from a burning building. Got it." -o- Now While Trowa was grateful for the cooler weather of October, and certainly grateful for the end of summer tourists coming to the park and setting things on fire and breaking the rules, he missed the longer hours of daylight. He had enjoyed coming home after a long day and still having hours of daylight to work around his house, instead of coming home and finding it already dark at only six at night already. Still, the changing seasons gave him plenty of chances to take photographs while at work, to capture the leaves and the trees and the animals as they shifted from the vibrancy of summer into the muted, warm colors and slower patterns of fall. He'd been a junior in high school when he took a photography class as an elective and he had fallen in love with it immediately, hauling his old Nikon around with him everywhere - literally everywhere, to the point that Duo used to pretend to be alarmed if he didn't see Trowa carrying the camera. Photography was one of the few distractions he had always allowed himself in life, and at work. He was passionate about his job, and felt lucky to be able to spend his days - and a few nights - at the park. Still, he didn't feel too guilty about taking time out of his day to hike up to one of the waterfalls and spend half an hour taking photographs. Of course, for the past week he had had an additional distraction tagging along. He had decided to start bringing Death to work with him, after he came home and discovered that he had moved on from socks to bed linens. Despite the dog's diminutive size, he seemed perfectly at ease in the park, racing through the woods and chasing after birds and squirrels whenever Trowa let him off his leash. Of course one of the other Park Rangers had given Trowa crap about bringing in the dog - had even submitted a report to their superior , but in the end, Trowa had pointed out that Death was a poodle, therefore hypoallergenic, and then lied and said he was beginning his training as a service dog, and his supervisor had shrugged it off. Which meant that on Monday night, as Trowa drove home from the park, Death was curled up asleep on the passenger seat after a day spent chasing squirrels and delighting a few leaf-watching tourists with his antics. As Trowa pulled his truck into the driveway of his house the headlights splashed across a man sitting on his front porch. Duo. Trowa jerked his gaze away, parked, and found himself sitting in the truck, glaring at his steering wheel, unable to get out of his truck and face the man he had once dreamed of spending his life with. But then Death woke up and was instantly alert, standing on his hind legs and staring out of the window and barking at the man on the porch. Trowa sighed and finally dragged himself out of the car, slinging his camera case across his shoulders and scooping up Death before he could make a dash for the porch. Duo sat on the top step leading up to the porch, and in the dim streetlight Trowa could make out his face, could see Duo's dark eyes fixed on him. Death was still barking and attempting to break free of Trowa's hands so that he could investigate the trespasser, but Trowa kept a firm grip on him. Maybe it was petty, but he wasn't all that eager to see Duo and Death reunited on his front porch. Trowa walked past Duo on his way up to the porch without pausing and unlocked the door to his house. He started to walk inside, but Duo's voice stopped him. "Tro?" Duo sounded uncertain, hurt, fragile and it filled Trowa with anger. Duo was hurt and uncertain? Duo was fragile? Duo was the one that had left them in the first place - Duo was the one who had delivered the speech about growing up and facing reality and understanding that there would never be a future for the three of them together. Fuck Duo and his uncertainty and his hurt and - "Can we talk?" And fuck Trowa, for being weak enough that the sound of Duo's voice was still all it took for him to give in. He looked over his shoulder and saw that Duo had stood up and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Okay." Duo offered him a slight, faint smirk and followed him inside the house. Once Trowa had closed the door behind him, he finally let Death down and the dog wasted no time - he circled around Duo, sniffing and inspecting him and then stood up on his left leg to demand attention. Duo smiled, a bitter edge to the expression. "He doesn't remember me." It was clear that Death didn't remember him. Trowa knew the way that Death had greeted Duo in high school - jumping at him and barking until Duo picked him up and then trying to attack his face with his tongue. "Probably better that way," Duo continued. Trowa looked over and saw that Duo was looking at him. "Probably," Trowa agreed. He wished he could have forgotten Duo. Duo crouched down when Death flopped onto his back and obligingly rubbed his belly. "He likes you, even if he doesn't remember you," Trowa pointed out. Duo nodded. "He always was too trusting." Trowa swallowed hard and looked away. He refused to let Duo's words affect him. He refused to hear what Duo was really saying. "Look - I, ah, thanks for taking care of him. Wufei told me you picked him up the day after Father Maxwell died and I - thank you." Trowa shrugged. He wondered if Duo had come to take Death away? Wondered if Duo was on his way out of Granville. Wondered if this was the last time he would ever see Duo. He thought back to the last time he had seen Duo - when they had both been college students and Trowa had taken a train into the city and thought to visit Duo and he had seen him in front of his dorm, sitting on a blanket with some other guy and Trowa had watched them laugh, had watched Duo kiss him and he had felt a piece of himself wither. He drew in a deep breath. "You've been happy?" Duo took a long time to answer, and Trowa finally turned around. Duo was standing again, and he looked on the verge of walking out of the house. "Yeah. I've been - yeah. You? Have you been happy?" Trowa shrugged. No. He hadn't been happy, but Duo didn't need to know that. And it wasn't as if Trowa was unused to being unhappy. Duo scratched at the back of his neck. "I... fuck. I don't even know where to start, Tro." "Don't." Duo arched an eyebrow. "What?" "Don't call me Tro. Don't - don't just come back into my life and think that things are the same as they were ten years ago. You left, Duo. You left us. You broke -" Trowa stopped himself and shook his head. "Don't call me Tro. You aren't the boy I loved, you aren't someone who gets to call me that." Duo swallowed so hard that Trowa could see his throat work, could see his eyes tear up. "You're right. I'm sorry. I won't call you that anymore. I - I'm not that boy, I guess. And we can't go back, can we?" Trowa couldn't help but sneer. "All you ever wanted was to go forward - to get the hell out of Granville. So why did you come back?" "You wanted to get out too!" Duo shouted and then looked sheepish at his tone. "Sorry. You wanted to get out too - you used to talk about going to Montana or California or Colorado or Arizona - or Hawaii. And instead you came back here!" "This is where I was assigned," Trowa snapped. "I'm not like you. I don't get to just pack up and disappear whenever I want." Duo winced. "I know. But I - I wanted more for you, Tro -wa. I just wanted you to be happy. And you used to talk about those other places and I always thought... I always thought you'd end up there and you'd be happy." "Well, I didn't." "I know." They stared at each other for a long, tense moment of angry silence. "Why did you come back?" Trowa repeated. Duo shrugged. "I had to. There was Death and the will and - and I just... had to see this place one last time." Trowa nodded. "So you came to get him and now you're leaving? Let me get his stuff." "Wait. Tro - Trowa wait." Duo reached out and grabbed Trowa as he started to walk past. Trowa struggled out of his grip but Duo held on, pulled him close, and Trowa could smell him. Could smell that same clean, sharp scent that Duo had started wearing the fall of their senior year in high school and damn him. "I'm sorry," Duo said again, his voice muffled against Trowa's shoulder, his arms tight around Trowa's back. "I'm sorry, Trowa. I'm so fucking sorry." Duo's voice sounded broken, sounded like Trowa felt inside, and Trowa found his body responding almost without his choice. He wrapped his arms around Duo, tucked his chin on Duo's bent head and held him close. "I know you hate me," Duo continued to speak. "And you should. I - I deserve it, Trowa. But I - for fuck's sake, Tro, I can't forget you. I tried so damn hard to forget you and Heero and I never could. I can never forget your voice or your eyes or your smile - or your fucking glare. I -" Trowa stopped Duo's words with his mouth. Duo froze and then he kissed Trowa back, pressed against him, dug his fingers into Trowa's back and teased Trowa's lips with his tongue until Trowa opened his mouth, until Trowa let him in. And then their hands were everywhere, tugging at clothes, at skin and hair and it was rushed, it was completely without finesse and Duo almost broke the coffee table as they stumbled into Trowa's bedroom. He had Duo naked and whimpering on the bed under him, was trailing his tongue and teeth down the length of Duo's arched neck while Duo frantically stroked Trowa's cock and Trowa slid lubed fingers into Duo's tight hole when Duo spoke up. "I'm going to leave you again, Tro. I can't - I'm going to leave again." "I know." They looked at each other for a long, intense moment. "You're going to hate me again." "I know." Duo grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down for another kiss. They didn't speak again. -o- ~ * ~ |
