|
"This Must Be"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 Warnings: angst, language Pairings: 6x2 Summary: After three months of... whatever it is they've been doing, Zechs invites Duo to spend the night.
"This Must Be" Duo sighed and ran his hand through his hair, and then winced. He could feel his bangs settle against his head unevenly, could feel the tug of his hair pulled back into a braid and he knew it was probably a mess.
Just like the rest of him.
He didn’t do fancy. Not unless fancy meant Preventers dress uniform, and even then, he didn’t clean up all that well, and certainly didn’t look as if he belonged in the olive and navy jacket and trousers.
He had scrounged around in his closet for almost an hour, until he finally found the black button-up shirt that he had stolen from Heero more than a year ago. He paired it with a pair of black jeans, the same pair he wore when he went out to bars and clubs, and he hoped it wasn’t…
Too much himself.
Pathetic.
He sighed again, and tried to put his hair to rights, just using his hand to pat it back into place.
Quit stalling , he told himself, and knock on the damn door .
He drew in a deep breath, let it out, and raised his hand.
His fist impacted harder than he had intended, or maybe the door was just hollow, but the sound echoed down the empty hall, and Duo winced again.
A moment later, the door opened.
“Duo.”
Zechs stood on the other side of the door, and he looked completely unprepared for a guest.
He was still wearing his Preventers uniform, the jacket abandoned but his tie wrenched loose and askew, his sleeves shoved up, and his hair… looked like it had suffered more than Duo’s careless finger-combing attempts.
“That’s my name.”
Zechs didn’t smile at the joke. He just continued to stare down at Duo.
Leaving Duo to wonder just what was going on.
“Er… it is Friday night, right?” Duo asked.
Zechs closed his eyes and sighed.
“Yes, yes, it is.”
“And you did invite me over, right?”
Zechs nodded, and Duo watched his throat work, watched Zechs struggle to put on a calm facade, and then the other man opened his eyes and met Duo’s gaze.
“I did. I apologize. I…” Zechs stopped and frowned.
“You changed your mind?” Duo tried. It was exactly what he had expected, after all.
He had, in fact, been expecting it from the start - from that first night at the bar when they had both had a few too many drinks and had fucked in the bathroom. He’d been waiting for Zechs to end things, whatever this thing between them was, for the last three months.
But he hadn’t, and tonight… tonight, Zechs had invited Duo over to his house, had suggested he stay the night, and Duo had been stupid enough to feel hopeful, stupid enough to let himself fantasize about what it would be like, to be in a relationship . With Zechs Merquise, of all people.
So much , he thought bitterly, for that .
“It’s okay,” Duo said quickly, sharply, fighting down every single feeling that was threatening to overwhelm him. “It’s fine. You don’t- We don’t have to- It’s fine.”
But Zechs scowled, Duo’s mumbled words clearly doing nothing to placate him.
“It’s not fine,” Zechs practically growled, and then he hesitated, eyes sharpening as they searched Duo’s face. “If you don’t want to be here, if you don’t want this, I understand. I don’t blame you,” Zechs added with a derisive snort. “Why would you want to be here?”
Duo arched an eyebrow.
Even after three months of fucking, he didn’t know Zechs all that well. But he knew him well enough, from those three months of physical intimacy and from the three years of working at Preventers in the counterterrorism unit together ever since Zechs returned from Mars.
And he knew that Zechs was many things, was complex and contradictory and a pain in the ass - but he wasn’t self-deprecating. He was painfully self-assured and confident.
Or at least, he had his self-doubts and self-loathing buried so far beneath his polished veneer that no one knew they were there.
“What happened?” Duo asked, ignoring the bait.
Zechs swallowed hard, his throat working convulsively, and Duo arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms.
“Look, you’ve got two options. You can tell me to fuck off, or you can let me in. But I’m not going to make this easy for you, either way.”
Zechs snorted.
“You don’t make anything easy,” he muttered.
Duo gave him a sharp grin.
“If you wanted easy, you wouldn’t want me,” he pointed out, and then hesitated.
Because it was entirely possible that Zechs didn’t want him.
But the other man stepped to the side, opening the door wider, and Duo stepped inside his apartment.
He had been there before, but usually the lights were out and they were too busy tugging at each other’s clothing and trying not to trip over the furniture as they stumbled towards the bedroom for Duo to pay much attention. And then, later, he was sneaking out in the dark, hoping not to wake Zechs, hoping not to break some priceless antique.
Zechs closed the door behind Duo, locking it, and then they were left standing there staring at each other.
Duo didn’t do well with silence, never had.
“So, you wanna talk about whatever it is that’s bothering you, or do you just want to fuck or-”
“What is it you want from me, Duo?”
That was a loaded question, and Duo rocked back on his heels.
“You mean as part of a pre-nup or something? Or…”
Zechs’s eyes narrowed.
So humor wasn’t the route to go.
Then again, maybe it was, if Zechs was spoiling for a fight.
“Depends,” Duo shrugged, “if the rumors of the yacht are true. And what about that castle in Corfu? Or is that Relena’s?”
He just barely caught the flicker of emotion at the mention of Zechs’s sister, and he frowned.
So it was something to do with her?
Or maybe it wasn’t.
He and Zechs hadn’t had too many conversations - not long, deep ones that involved much beyond whispering filthy words against each other’s skin. He didn’t really know how Zechs and Relena got on these days.
“What do you even see in me?” Zechs rephrased his earlier question. “You- you and I don’t belong together.”
“Why? Because I’m L2 gutter trash and you’re a prince?” Duo sneered.
Zechs’s eyes turned frigid.
“Don’t ever call yourself that again.”
Duo chuckled.
“Offend your delicate sensibilities? Or is it that you don’t like to think of yourself as slumming? Don’t like to imagine just where my hands have been? My mouth? My-”
Zechs backed him up against the door.
“You aren’t trash. You never were. And you’re a better man that I deserve. What do you want from me, Duo?”
This was not at all how Duo had thought tonight was going to go, and he felt completely off-balance.
He hated feeling off-balance, and it irritated him that he didn’t know why Zechs was behaving like this.
“I want you, you self-centered prick. I thought I’d made that pretty fucking clear.”
Not just to Zechs, but to half of the Preventers field agents when he and Heero had taken their sparring match into a full-on fight when Heero had suggested Duo was being an idiot for wasting his time with someone like Zechs.
That had been last week, and he and Heero still weren’t on speaking terms, despite Trowa’s none too subtle attempts to force them to reconcile so that he didn’t lose a bet with Wufei over how long they would go without speaking.
“But why ?” Zechs sounded more than a little desperate.
“What the fuck is going on?”
The taller man stepped back from Duo, turning away, but then Duo reached out and grabbed his arm.
Zechs was bigger than him, heavier and more muscled and so damn stubborn, but Duo managed to swing him around.
“Talk to me, Zechs.”
For a moment, it looked like Zechs wouldn’t, his jaw set and his mouth shut in a firm, thin line.
“Please.”
Duo had learned, that first night, just how easy it was to bend Zechs with just that one word.
At least where sex was concerned.
This was the first time Duo had used it when they were both fully clothed.
Zechs’s shoulders slumped, and for once, his military perfect posture was abandoned and he looked nothing like the aristocratic warrior Duo had known for the last ten years.
“Relena is getting married next week.”
Duo blinked.
“She is? To who? That Danish prince?”
Zechs nodded.
“Valdemar. Yes.”
“Huh. Well. They’ve been dating on and off for a few years, so that’s… not completely shocking.” Duo didn’t understand what Relena’s impending marriage had to do with Zechs’s current mood, and he wondered if there was some obvious connection he was missing.
“I have been told that I am not welcome at the ceremony. It’s going to be a small, private affair, with a few of her close friends and Valdemar’s family.”
“But not her family.”
“Her adopted mother will be in attendance. As will Heero, of course.”
“Of course,” Duo repeated, and then he frowned. “But not you.”
“No. Not me.” Zechs offered Duo a smile, a bitter twist of his lips that Duo decided was among his least favorite expressions on Zechs’s face. “Apparently, my presence would displease his family, and-” Zechs paused and pulled away from Duo. He walked over to an antique writing desk and picked up a heavy cream envelope. “And Relena feels that she and I aren’t at the stage in our relationship where I would feel comfortable. She assures me that when she and Valdemar return from their honeymoon we can have dinner together.”
“Huh.”
It wasn’t the most eloquent response, but Duo wasn’t really sure what to say to that.
“Yes. Exactly.” Zechs tossed the envelope and the letter back onto the desk, and then stalked over to the windows overlooking the city.
Duo joined him, stopping by his side but keeping a few inches of space between them.
“What does Valdemar’s family have against you?”
Zechs’s reflection was even paler than his normal skin tone, and he stood so still that he looked like some kind of distorted photograph.
“I killed his uncle during the Eve Wars.”
“Oh.”
That would, Duo was sure, make things difficult.
“Even my sister cannot escape the destruction I’ve wrought,” Zechs continued, voice low and bitter. “I’m a plague.”
It was ironic, in a deeply unsatisfying way, to hear Duo’s own darkest thoughts spill from Zechs’s mouth.
“You’re not that man anymore,” Duo pointed out. “You aren’t a plague. You’ve changed, and- and you’re worth a hell of a lot more than you or anyone else gives you credit for. You’re a decent man, Zechs. You aren’t a monster.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve spent my whole life running from monsters, and I don’t want to run from you.”
Zechs looked at his reflection, and then turned to face him.
Duo, however, needed a moment before he could look at Zechs.
He hadn’t meant to say that, certainly hadn’t wanted to bare himself in that way.
Not tonight. Not ever, if he could have avoided it.
But then Zechs held out his hand, and Duo sighed.
He reached out and laced their fingers together.
“I trust you, Zechs. Because you know what it’s like - you know what it feels like to be surrounded by death. To be death. And you know what it feels like to fight your way free of it. That’s what I want from you. That’s what I see in you.”
Zechs tugged on their joined hands, and Duo let himself be folded into Zechs’s arms.
He felt the brush of Zechs’s nose and lips over his hair.
“I don’t deserve you,” Zechs whispered.
Duo snorted.
“And I don’t deserve you. But you’re stuck with me, so you’d better get used to it.”
He could feel Zechs’s lips curve into a smile, and for a moment, Duo leaned against the taller man and just listened to the steady drum of his heart.
“Thank you,” Zechs said.
~ * ~ |
