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"The Road Not Taken"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, yaoi Pairings: 2x3, 1x5, 3x4, past 1x3 Summary: Sometimes we live our lives following one road because we never consider another. Trowa Barton has the misfortune to answer the classified of a straight Duo Maxwell. Thanks as always to the always fabulous Cuzo
for being my beta! "The Road Not Taken "
Part Two "Why are you smiling?" "What?" Trowa had to remove one of his earbuds and ask Heero to repeat his question. "What are you smiling?" Heero asked again, scowling at the expression on Trowa's face. "Because I'm happy?" "You're running. You're never happy when you're running." It was true. For the past six years he and Heero had gone running at least three times a week early in the morning, and Trowa had hated it from the start. He used to think Heero had forced him to do it just as a form of torture, and six years later he was convinced that Heero was both a sadist and a masochist since Heero didn't seem to enjoy it much either. "Well I'm not thinking about running," Trowa allowed. Heero gave him a curious look and then came to a dead stop. Trowa slowed down and then stopped when he realized Heero was still standing still. "You took him back again, didn't you?" "What? Quatre? No. No, I didn't," Trowa insisted. He had, as a matter of fact, texted Quatre late last night to cancel their plans to go out that night so that he could go out with Duo instead. It had felt indescribably good to cancel on Quatre. "Then what the hell are you so happy about?" Heero demanded. "I called Duo." "Duo?" "The ad that you circled in red for me. Duo Maxwell. With the Lear quote?" Heero smirked and finally started running again. Trowa reluctantly followed suit. "And you- liked him?" "Yes. I did." Trowa smiled again, thinking about their three hour conversation last night. "A lot. We're going out tonight." "Stop smiling like that, Trowa," Heero muttered. "Like what?" "Like you're happy. I'm not used to it." Trowa gave him a look and Heero smirked. "What was his name again?" "Duo. Duo Maxwell." "You're smiling just saying his name." "Maybe I'm just smiling because I finally fell in love with running?" Trowa suggested. He should be bothered by Heero's teasing, but he wasn't. It felt bizarre to feel this attracted and connected to another person after just a three hour phone conversation, but he did. Duo was smart and funny and his voice - his voice was the sexiest thing Trowa had ever heard. He wondered how different it would be in person. "Are you sure he isn't a serial killer or something?" Heero asked after several minutes of running in silence. "He's a graduate student at Emory - he's getting his doctorate in history." "That doesn't mean he's not a serial killer," Heero pointed out. "If he is, he has extremely good taste in books and movies. At least I'll be entertained as he kills me." "What if he turns out to be ugly?" "Jesus, Heero, thanks for the support." "I'm only asking the obvious question here. What if he weighs three hundred pounds and -" "How he looks matters, yes," Trowa conceded. "But if I was only interested in how someone looked I'd ask out Rosencrantz or Guildenstern." After Heero's throwaway comment about the two actors earlier in the week Trowa had noticed the two actors attention and very obvious attraction to him. It was amusing, and vaguely gratifying, but Trowa wasn't interested in either of them. "Where are you taking him?" Heero asked. "Why? So you can stalk me at the bar?" Heero shrugged one shoulder. "Do you need me to? In case he does weigh three hundred pounds or is a serial killer?" "If he weighs three hundred pounds then I'll deal with it. If he is a serial killer I seriously doubt that's going to come out on our first date." "I'm just saying. I'm here for you." "Thanks, buddy," Trowa told him sarcastically and resolutely put his earbuds back in, signalling an end to the conversation. He couldn't help but think that with a voice like his, Duo didn't even need to be that handsome - Trowa would be perfectly content to just close his eyes and listen to him speak. That evening as he got ready for the date he only briefly debated what to wear - it was a bar and a baseball game, so it would be a fairly casual first date. He decided on a gray henley t-shirt and fitted khaki pants. He didn't have very high expectations about bringing Duo back to his apartment that night so he went for comfort when selecting boxer briefs instead of the tight,black pair that were Quatre's favorites. When he arrived at the bar he looked around for Duo - the other man had texted him to say he would be the obnoxious looking Yankees fan - when his phone started to ring. He saw that it was Heero and reluctantly answered. "Hello?" "He hasn't killed you yet?" "No, he hasn't killed me yet. I haven't even met him yet." "He stood you up?" "No, I don't think so. I'm just looking for him now." "Keep me on the phone with you. If he turns out to be a nightmare you can say you have an emergency." "Is this the kind of wingman support I've been missing all these years?" Trowa had to ask. "Yes. Don't you regret all those years you wasted on Quatre now?" "No," Trowa answered honestly. "Not if it means I got to avoid this. You are seriously -" Standing near the back of the bar, wearing a Yankees t-shirt was a man who waved at Trowa. His brown hair was long enough that he had pulled it back into a loose ponytail at the back of his neck. He was a few inches shorter than Trowa, with a lean build and strong, broad features that transformed into a devastatingly handsome smile when he saw Trowa looking back at him. "Trowa? Are you still there?" "Yeah." Trowa tore his attention away from the man. "He's here. He's not disgusting and if he wants to kill me I'm okay with that." He hung up before Heero could say anything else. -o- By the end of the night Duo felt confident he had found a new best friend. Trowa got all of his jokes, his Shakespeare references and he loathed the Red Sox almost as much as Duo did. They had spent a pleasant few hours together at Sidebar, watching the game, eating hot dogs and drinking beer. The bar had been packed, and the only decent seat had been a booth in the back that they had had to cram into side by side so they could both watch the game. It had been worth it, though, Duo reflected. They had another drink after the game ended, but by eleven Duo felt he should head home and catch up on grading. As they walked across the parking lot towards their cars, their shoulders bumped together, and Duo couldn't help but think that this entire night had been surreal. One three hour phone conversation, drinks and dinner and now he felt like he had known Trowa for years. They approached Duo's car and he slowed down, hesitant to go home. "Well," Duo scratched the back of his neck, suddenly feeling inexplicably awkward, "this is me." He gestured to his Corolla. Trowa nodded. "I'm over there somewhere," he added a vague gesture that made Duo smile. They stood in silence for a moment. "Well -" they said at the same time and Duo had to laugh. Trowa smiled slightly and the tension broke. "This was great," Duo said. "I'd love to do it again sometime - are you free this weekend? We could watch the Yankees game down at the bar or -" His offer was cut off when Trowa's mouth silenced him. His lips were hot and smooth and his tongue - his tongue was in Duo's mouth. Duo froze. Trowa had moved close enough so that their entire bodies were touching now. Trowa was warm, his body was hard and Duo felt- weird. "What was that?" He had to ask when Trowa stepped back. Trowa winced. "Not my best work, I'm sorry." One corner of his mouth tipped up. "Let me try again." Before Duo could formulate any kind of coherent thought, much less a response, Trowa was kissing him again. His tongue caressed Duo's lips and he opened his mouth and then he felt a shot of electricity through his entire body as their tongues met. Trowa's hands moved up to cradle Duo's skull, his fingers threading through Duo's hair and he shifted forward so that their groins rubbed together. Duo stepped back and held up his hands. "No. I - I'm - are you gay?" Trowa arched an eyebrow. "Yes?" The taller man looked Duo over and his expression slowly became a completely neutral mask. "You aren't." "Ah, no. No, I'm not." "So this date was just- what was this then?" There was the faintest thread of anger in Trowa's voice. "Date? This wasn't a-" Duo realized way too late that it had been a date. "Fuck. I thought you just saw the ad and- wanted to hang out- I didn't realize-" he ran a hand through his hair. "Typically classified ads in the "Seeking" section mean you are looking for a date," Trowa bit out. "Yeah, I was -" "And you were the one who suggested we go out and get a drink." "Yeah, I did -" "And you're the one who insisted on sitting in the goddamned miniscule booth together." "Yeah, because -" "You practically sat in my lap to get the waitress' attention." "Okay, that was a little -" "And you're the one who wiped mustard from my mouth." Duo felt himself flushing red. "It never occurred to me that you were gay. I seriously thought we were just hanging out and you - fuck it, you're awesome, man and I guess I've never been one for personal space issues so I just - look. I'm sorry. You called me, I thought you were with the paper, and you weren't and we just talked for hours and I figured, hey, I don't hang out with that many guys who care about more than baseball or Tudor England and - I jumped. I did. And I'm sorry." Trowa stood there, his face still impassive but his body tense with anger. "The fucked up thing is," Trowa said, his lips twisted into a bitter smile, "the fucked up thing is that this was the best date I've been on in years. And it was with a straight guy." He shook his head. "I am sorry," Duo said. He didn't know what else to say. "I - I should go." He dug his keys out of his pocket. "You know," Trowa said, the anger gone from his voice now, "for a straight guy you seemed to be enjoying that kiss. A lot." Duo flushed again. "I - I didn't know what to do. No one has ever kissed me like that. I mean, I've never kissed a guy and -" Trowa held up one hand and made a shooing gesture. "Run along back to your heterosexual world, Duo. Don't worry about it." And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving Duo to stare after him. -o- By Tuesday morning Trowa still hated the world. He had spent Sunday in a foul mood and as a result his apartment had never been cleaner - he scoured every inch of the place with earth-friendly cleaner and even scrubbed the concrete on his balcony. On Monday he had thrown himself into his next project and spent the day building the white model for Eurydice, the next show he was designing. He ignored three calls from Heero and one from Quatre, but finally answered when Wufei called him twice. "Tell Heero I'm alive," he said, "and that I'll see him at the production meeting tomorrow." "You don't sound happy to be alive," Wufei said. "I'm not," he growled in response and then hung up. He managed to channel all of his anger at himself, Duo, Quatre - and Heero for that matter - into his work and by midnight on Monday he had a rough, white model of the set that actually distracted him from his anger enough to be excited about the show. He went to the Tuesday morning production meeting with the model in one hand, his thermos of paint-strippingly strong coffee in another and a glare in Heero's direction when his friend started to ask him about his date. They settled around the conference table and Trowa managed to put all thoughts of Duo out of his mind for the next two hours as they discussed the play and talked about the model. It was a productive meeting. The director was an old friend of Heero's and Trowa had worked with him once before as well. The play was one of Trowa's favorites, and it sounded like Heero and Catharine already had great ideas for the lights and costumes respectively. By the end of the meeting Trowa was already thinking through the revisions to the set and mentally drafting the units. He was drawn out of his mental realm by Catharine and Heero, who lingered after the meeting and gave him pointed looks. He tried to ignore them as he packed up his notes. "Oh come on!" Cathy finally exploded. "Just tell us how it went!" Trowa glared at Heero. "You told her?" "Of course he didn't. Wufei did." Trowa sighed. He hated everyone in his life. "At least he wasn't a serial killer," Heero mused. "It couldn't have been that bad." Trowa couldn't help but snort a laugh. "It was perfect." He sat down on the edge of the table. "He liked all of my jokes, he got all of my Shakespeare references and he hates the Red Sox. We had a great time." "So you look ready to murder everyone because-" Cathy trailed off. "Because he's straight," Trowa bit out angrily. Cathy arched an eyebrow. "You answered a straight guy's classified?" "Apparently. Yes." "But he still went out with you? Did he think you were a girl?" "No. He knew I was a guy. He thought- fuck, I don't know what he thought. He assumed I wanted to be his friend or something." "Because everyone trolls for friends in the classified ads," Cathy muttered. "So what happened? You clearly had a good time for most of the date," Heero pointed out. Trowa sighed. "I kissed him." "Oh," Cathy said and bit her lip. Then she frowned. "It doesn't look like he punched you in the face." She winced. "The stomach?" "He didn't punch me," Trowa said. Part of him wished that Duo had. At least then he could associate the entire thing with pain instead of the incredible feel of Duo's hair, his body and his mouth. "Weird," Heero said, a thoughtful look on his face. rowa shrugged. "Maybe he's a pacifist. I don't know. But it doesn't really matter, does it?" "Well, I'm sorry it didn't work out," Cathy said. She stood up and ruffled his hair. "But it's good that you're getting out there and trying. And Heero's right. At least he wasn't a serial killer." "Thanks," Trowa muttered. Catharine gathered her renderings and left. Heero and Trowa walked out at a more sedate pace. "Tell me you aren't just going to go back to Quatre after this," Heero demanded as they reached the parking lot. Trowa snorted. "No. I'm not." "Really?" Heero sounded surprised that Trowa didn't try to argue with him. "Heero, I just went out on the best date I've had - maybe ever. I didn't think about Quatre once, the entire night and you know what - it was great. I loved not thinking about Quatre. I loved being with another guy." "A straight guy," Heero pointed out. "Unfortunately, yes. A straight guy. But I spent what - three hours with him on Saturday night and three hours on the phone with him on Friday night? Just six hours and it still felt like I knew him and he knew me more than Quatre ever has. I can't just crawl back to Quatre again. Not when there's a chance that I could feel like that with someone else." "I want to believe you, but what happens when Quatre calls you up again?" "Probably the same thing that happened when he called yesterday. I'll ignore him." Heero's eyes widened. "The straight guy saved your life." Trowa rolled his eyes. "He did not save my life." "Yes, he did. He made you finally realize you're better off without Quatre. That makes him a goddamned saint." Trowa thought about Duo's devilish grin. "I'm not sure that's how I would describe him," Trowa murmured. "Well no, obviously. He's the stupid bastard who turned out to be straight." Trowa had to snort a laugh Heero's ability to admire and hate Duo in equal measure. "Let's just not talk about him anymore, okay? It's not like I'm ever going to hear from him again."
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