|
"Offstage"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 (the usual) Pairings: 6x2, ? Summary: It's Duo's first professional job, at a summer stock theatre company in upstate New York. As an intern, he knows he has a lot to learn. But he didn't count on having to figure out how to deal with THIS mess.
"Offstage" Chapter Three
Duo woke up slowly, aware of several things at once. He really, really needed to take a piss. He was freezing. He was naked. There was a naked guy pressed against his back. His entire body felt sore, from his flight and bus ride and lack of sleep and- He was no longer a virgin. Slowly and quietly, Duo moved away from Zechs and climbed out of the bed. Once he was standing, he looked back and saw Zechs, a scowl on his face, shift over and take up the warm spot Duo had just abandoned. Duo shivered in the cold, worse now that he wasn’t under the blankets or baking in Zechs’ warmth. He looked around, but he had no idea where his shirts had ended up. He found his shorts and boxers. He pulled those on, wincing when he lifted his legs, and felt an almost piercing ache in his thighs and ass, and, without really thinking, picked up the navy sweater Zechs had been wearing last night and put it on. It was big - Zechs was taller and broader - and Duo felt a little like a kid trying on adult clothes, but he also felt warmer. He gingerly made his way to the bathroom and relieved himself with a sigh. Duo flushed the toilet and washed his hands, and looked back into the bedroom. Zechs was still asleep, had rolled over so that he was facing away from Duo, and his blond hair looked like a tangled mess. Duo reached into his pocket and found his phone. 8:45. Heero had said they would start work at 9:30, which gave Duo forty-five minutes to get his ass back to the theatre, hopefully shower, and hopefully find something to eat. Duo looked at the bed again, and debated waking up Zechs. He would, probably, give Duo a ride if he asked. But… But what if he wanted to see Duo again? What if he didn’t? Duo wasn’t really sure how this was supposed to work, but he was fairly certain that the crazy hot guy from the bar didn’t chase after an eighteen-year-old. Duo grabbed his boots and socks and decided, all things considered, it was better to just leave before the situation turned awkward, which it most definitely would the second Duo opened his mouth. He stepped outside onto the porch of the bungalow and pulled on his socks and then his boots, tying them up quickly. He reached for his phone again, and pulled up the map so he could figure out where the hell he was and how the hell to get back to the theatre. Seven miles. Well, there went his dreams of breakfast, a shower - or even showing up on time. Duo sighed and started to walk down the driveway, weaving through the assortment of cars, until he reached the main road. And with each step, he felt a definite, resounding ache in his body. He made a mental note - don’t stay up all night having sex for the first time the day before you start a new job. “Duo?” He stopped and turned at the voice. It was Cathy, standing on the porch in front of the large, main house in front of the bungalow. “Cathy?” “What are you doing here?” “Um… walking?” Duo responded, not quite lying. He didn’t think sneaking out on the hot stranger I went home with last night would be the kind of response to make a good impression. Cathy frowned, looked him over, looked at his bootprints in the grass, tracked them back towards the bungalow, and then her eyes widened. “Oh my god. You spent the night with Zechs?!” Duo swallowed hard. So much for that. He scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah?” “Duo.” It was then, Cathy’s shock serving as a catalyst, that Duo started to put things together. Cathy was coming out of that house - Cathy had said she was staying in the guest housing with the other senior staff and the actors. Duo frowned and mentally reviewed the staff contact list he had been emailed, but he didn’t remember seeing a Zechs on it. Which meant that, if Zechs worked for the theatre, he was an actor. That only made sense, considering the man’s looks and physique. Well… that was going to make things weird. Of course, as an intern, there was every chance that Duo would barely even speak to Zechs again - and Cathy’s shock at finding out he had spent the night with him only reinforced Duo’s opinion that Zechs probably didn’t mingle with technical types, especially not interns. Cathy was still staring at him, and Duo cleared his throat. “I don’t guess you’d give me a ride back to the theatre?” She continued to stare at him, muttered something under her breath, but stomped down from the porch and stalked over to the blue pick-up truck parked on the road. Duo followed her, realizing that Cathy really disapproved of what he had done, and feeling humiliated for being caught and for letting her down. “Cathy-” “Look, you missed the speech last night, and I forgot to add in this part because I just… figured you were a kid and it wasn’t something I needed to worry too much about. But three months is a long summer, Duo. Things happen. People have sex. You’re an adult - barely - and if you want to have sex, that’s on you, but keep in mind that you have to work with these people. For the next three months. So just… be careful.” She gave him a look that reminded Duo of the time when he had been seven and his foster family had consisted of a Baptist minister, his wife and the two kids they had adopted from China, and the minister’s wife had caught Duo kissing another boy at Sunday school and sat him down with a lecture on the evils of homosexuality. There was, of course, a little less judgement in Cathy’s eyes as she looked at him, however. “Yeah, okay. I get it.” Cathy sighed, obviously not convinced, but she put the truck in drive and steered them towards the theatre. It was quiet, and tense, and Duo was relieved when she finally pulled into the gravel parking lot of the theatre. “Thanks for the ride,” he called out as he escaped from the cab. She grumbled something that he couldn’t hear, and decided probably wasn’t ‘you’re welcome’. Duo let himself into the back door of the theatre and quietly made his way through the hall of staff rooms, through the lobby, and up the narrow stairs to the room he shared with Quatre. The blond haired man was gone, his bed a tangle of sheets and blankets, and Duo sighed, relieved that he wasn’t going to have to face down another judgemental stare. It was just after nine, and Duo realized he was either going to get a shower or food. With a sigh, he decided on food. Duo stripped out of his clothes, laying Zechs’ sweater on the bed and making a note to wash it so he could return it to the actor, and then rifled through his duffle bag to find clean underwear, his only other long-sleeved shirt and pants. He found his toiletry bag and rubbed some toothpaste over his teeth, knowing that it was lazy but also really, really wanting breakfast. He walked back down to the lobby and, remembering Cathy’s brief tour the night before, walked around to the tavern attached to the theatre and opened the door. Inside, the same group that had been gathered on the back porch last night was spread out around a cluster of cafe tables. No one even looked up at Duo’s arrival, and he was relieved by that. Cathy, however, was leaning against the bar and walked towards him. Duo sighed, wondering if she was going to give him another dressing down. “I’ll walk you through the food routine,” she said, voice tight. “Breakfast is a on-your-own kind of thing. Back in the kitchen we have bagels, fruit, cereal and oatmeal. And coffee. After you eat, you take your plate to the sink, you rinse it, and then you put it in the dish rack. Same with any silverware and cups. Got it?” “Yep.” Duo wondered how long she was going to be pissed at him. “For lunch and dinner, the kitchen staff is here, and they set out the food on the bar - but you still need to clean up after yourself.” “Sounds good.” She held his gaze, looked like she wanted to say more, but then shook her head and walked away. Duo sighed and walked into the kitchen. Quatre was standing by the coffee maker, pouring what looked like an obscene amount of sugar into an impossibly large coffee thermos. Duo arched an eyebrow, and Quatre arched one right back. “I was worried you’d been eaten by a bear or decided to make a run for it.” Duo forced a smile. “Nah, just… got kind of lost walking back from the bar.” Amazingly, Quatre didn’t question that, and Duo moved past him to grab a bagel and an apple. “You want any?” Quatre gestured towards the practically empty coffee pot. “No thanks, not big on coffee.” Quatre snorted. “You say that now, but wait two weeks. You will be. You will be.” Quatre, Duo realized, was a complete dork. Duo grinned, relaxing for the first time that morning, and Quatre grinned back. “Come on,” Quatre jerked his head towards the seating area, “you missed meeting everyone last night, and if you don’t start socializing on day one, you’re going to miss out.” “Okay.” Duo followed him and sat beside Quatre at one of the larger tables, shared with Heero, Trowa and Hilde. Hilde looked up when Duo sat down, looked back down at her coffee mug, and then immediately back at Duo. “What?” Duo asked, as her eyes widened and she smirked. “Nothing. Just admiring the whole smudgy-eye makeup look you’ve got going on.” Everyone else at the table looked at him again as well, and Duo felt his face turn red. He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand and sure enough - gold and brown eyeshadow and a smear of black eyeliner came off. Shit. He had completely forgotten that Maria had done that. “Um…” “Not judging,” Hilde held up her hands. The looks on Trowa and Heero’s faces were the opposite of that statement, however. Quatre, on the other hand, was paying much more attention to his coffee than to anyone or anything else. “I didn’t- I don’t wear makeup.” Trowa arched an eyebrow and Heero smirked. “I mean, I didn’t put this on. A drag queen did.” That pulled Quatre’s attention out of his coffee mug. “What?” he asked, blinking a little owlishly. So Duo sighed and, in between bites of his bagel and apple, told them about his bus ride. The story carried them through breakfast, and Duo was just finishing up, telling them about Maria’s promise to come visit, as they walked over to the scene shop. They had been joined by Sylvia and Meilin who, after sitting with Dorothy, the sound designer, to eat, caught up to them as they walked across the lot. It was separate from the main theatre structure, across the parking lot and half-hidden by a line of trees. It looked like another barn, but it wasn’t in the same pristine condition as the theatre. Instead, it looked as though it hadn’t been painted in Duo’s lifetime, and along the outside, old pieces of scenery had been attached. They were all painted lauan, cut-out into different shapes for different shows. There was a miniature version of the Brooklyn Bridge, a large boat that looked like it might be the Titanic, signs that looked like they had once been filled with light bulbs, cutouts of trees and fences. It looked completely bizarre but also, Duo couldn’t help but think, really cool. He checked his watch, it was 9:30, but as they approached they saw that the front doors of the barn were still locked. “Told you he’d be late,” Hilde said, smirking at Heero. Heero who, Duo remembered, was new here as well, just scowled. “Who?” Duo had to ask. “Millie,” Meilin said, as she sat down on a stack of platforms by the side of the doors. “Mil-” “Call him that to his face and you’re going to be on toilet cleaning duty for a month,” Trowa casually warned as he leaned against the wall. Duo realized they were talking about the technical director, Milliardo Peacecraft. They sat around talking, Quatre guzzling his coffee, for another fifteen minutes, and Duo started to get a little irritated. After all, he had made it on time - and he seriously doubted the technical director’s night and morning could compare to his. Finally, the sound of car tires on the gravel lot broke through their conversation. “That’ll be him,” Meilin said, and Heero straightened up. “Easy there, he’ll still want to go and get a gallon of coffee before he comes over here. I told you, time is a very fluid concept for him, unless we’re counting down the hours until a show opens.” Heero scowled again, but he relaxed, moving over to lean against the barn beside Trowa. The electrician looked down at him and smirked a little, but Heero was glaring through the trees, towards the theatre. “Why are you here anyway?” Quatre asked Trowa after yawning. “Shouldn’t you be off… checking lights or something somewhere?” Trowa shrugged. “Sure. But Howard wanted me to make sure all of the outlets were in good shape over here so that none of you electrocute yourselves. But I can just leave…” “No, no, you have my permission to stay,” Quatre said. Trowa smiled at him and Quatre smiled back. It was clear the two of them had known each other for a while, and were close. Duo wondered if they were dating? “So, where do you go to school, Duo?” Meilin asked him. “Columbus State University - in Georgia.” “Georgia?” Hilde echoed. “Kinda far from home.” Duo shrugged. He was, but that had been the point. “Well,” Hilde continued, “Meilin and I go to U-Conn, Sylvia’s at Ohio State, Tro’s a first-year grad student at Virginia Tech, Heero - where are you at again?” “Michigan - my first year of grad school.” “Right. And Quatre - are you going to grad school yet, or are you still just doing your whole wandering from gig to gig?” “Still wandering,” Quatre said with a shrug. “I’ll go to grad school eventually. Have you two thought about where you’ll go next year?” Hilde shook her head no, but Meilin smirked, the expression very smug. “I’ve been talking to UT-Austin and Yale.” Duo couldn’t help but be impressed and intimidated. He had figured he would be the youngest - he was an intern, after all - but not only was he at least three or four years younger than everyone else, they were also all in an entire other league in terms of schools. CSU didn’t have an awful theatre program - but it wasn’t great. They all went to schools with amazing programs. Duo sincerely hoped he didn’t embarrass himself. “So, do we call him Milliardo?” Duo asked, getting back to a subject that was less likely to make him feel inferior. Meilin shook her head. “No - I mean, you can, but it’s so long and I promise you, you’ll end up just shortening it to Millie or Mill, and he will end you.” “So…?” But Meilin looked past him and smirked. Duo turned, following her gaze, and saw a tall, lean man walking through the trees towards them. He had a Red Sox baseball hat on his head, shadowing his face and a stainless steel travel mug in one hand. He wore battered work boots, equally well-worn jeans and an Emerson hoodie that was flecked with paint. “Zechs! We thought you forgot about us,” Meilin called out. Zechs? The man looked up, a scowl on his face. “As if I could ever forget what a pain in the ass you are, Meilin,” he snarked, coming closer and sweeping his gaze over them. His pale blue eyes landed on Duo, and he froze. Zechs. Duo could only stare. He couldn’t even breathe, couldn’t even think. Zechs was not an actor. Zechs was Milliardo. Zechs was the technical director. Zechs was Duo’s boss. Fuck. Never slept with my boss. Check. ~ * ~ |
