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"War Dogs"Written By: Honor Disclaimers: Roses are red, violets are blue,
the GW boys are mine, and that’s the truth! Shigeki: You can’t rhyme worth a darn. And
they aren’t yours. Honor:…remind me. Why did I think getting a muse was a good idea? Warnings: yaoi, some sexy scenes, romance, my
odd humor, bit of language, bit of violence Rating: NC-17 Betas: Velvet and Caitilin Author’s Insane notes: Inspired by a story that actually happened to my mom. She told it to me often as I was growing up, so she can legitimately be blamed for the entire idea. And Wingnut requested a 2x3, which makes two people to blame. ^_^ I love having someone in mind to blame. =thought= *emphasized*
"War Dogs " Chapter Six: Conversations
There were no signs of life in the house itself, but he could hear a radio playing some pretty good rock music from somewhere. Following his ears he went around to the garage. A pickup truck was jacked up, and a pair of feet were sticking out from under the front. Ah. Grinning a little Trowa dropped down to his heels and peered underneath to see Duo working at something near the wheel. “Hey.” Duo twisted around to see, eyes lighting up with pleasure. “Hey yourself handsome. I would come out and kiss you but I’m covered in grease and dirt.” “What are you doing anyway?” “The tire rod end on this side is going out. I have to replace it.” Trowa was tempted to ask what a tire rod end was, but decided that even the explanation probably wouldn’t tell him much. “Ah. Can I talk while you work?” “Sure, this isn’t complicated.” Duo went back to yanking on something stubborn and metal. “I just wanted to warn you that my two best friends are showing up this Friday.” “Quatre and Heero you mean?” “Yup. Quatre called me this morning and told me. Actually, they might move down here permanently if they like it. They’ve tried the east coast, but Heero hated it.” Duo paused and twisted a little to give him a somewhat puzzled look. “So…they’re together?” “Yeah.” Trowa was puzzled at Duo’s puzzlement. “I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before.” “Ah, no, you haven’t. You’ve mentioned them before, but never as a couple. How long have they been together?” “Huh…” Trowa had to pause and think back to answer the question. “Three years? Not long after boot camp. We were all deployed with each other and they kind of hit it off then.” “Cool. I bet you’re happy about them coming. Are you picking them up?” “No, Heero’s rented a car. I just wanted to update you. Oh, and why don’t you come for dinner Friday? They’re dying to meet you.” “Sure.” Duo paused in his yanking, glaring at the truck. “Babe, can you do me a huge favor?” “Do I get sex for it?” Duo laughed and winked at him. “Sure you do.” “Ah. In that case I quiver to obey.” Trowa grinned slightly when Duo choked on his laughter. It wasn’t often that he could get his boyfriend in stitches, and he liked it when he did. “What do you need?” “WD-40 and a tire end remover. The clamp looking one, not the pitch-fork rod one.” “Ah.” Trowa hoped those directions would make sense once he was actually looking at the tools in question. “Okay, I’ll go fetch them. Want me to pick up some lunch while I’m out?” “For that suggestion alone, you’re getting kinky sex.” “Maybe I should stop by the station and borrow a pair of handcuffs from Wufei then…” Duo nearly whapped his head against the floor he was laughing so hard. “You are in quite the mood, lover.” “Just happy,” Trowa admitted. “I’ll go run to the store.” “I would suggest driving, actually. Much faster that way.” Trowa rolled his eyes. “And I’m in a mood?” + Cook’s was the only real automotive parts store on the mountain, and it was definitely a man’s domain. Roughly a fourth of the store held plywood shelves filled with oil, oil filters, and the usual things associated with basic car maintenance. There was one long counter running the width of the building, dividing the store neatly and behind that counter were four men. Behind them were rows upon rows of shelves with every possible car part in existence. It was a little dingy, dirty, dusty, and no woman alive would be caught dead in it. Men liked it though for some reason. Trowa had been in here exactly once, just to buy oil and an oil filter for his truck. The men working here were friendly, a little too friendly sometimes, but still this was a place that he was fairly comfortable with. He walked in and greeted everyone with a friendly nod. “Morning.” “Mornin’ Trowa. Need something for that Ford of yours?” Trowa shook his head in amusement. “Now Bob, there’s nothing wrong with Fords. My truck is in better shape than your Dodge.” “Ha.” Bob was a pot-bellied man with balding hair and skin dark with too much sun. He was smiling in genuine amusement at Trowa, delighted to get a rise out of someone. He’d been trying for an argument all morning. “Actually,” Trowa admitted easily, “Duo sent me for some things. WD-40 and a tire rod end remover. He said the one that looks like a clamp, not the pitchfork.” “And that proves my point right there. He wouldn’t be changing no tire rod end if he was driving a Dodge.” “No, he’d be changing the transmission instead,” Trowa countered mildly. “I heard you’ve replaced the transmission and the steering column in your truck…what was it, four times?” “Five,” Jimmy Bateson corrected from nearby. He was a long time employee of Cook’s and knew just about every vehicle on the mountain. He was also a prankster at heart and just had to rib Bob a little when the opportunity presented itself. Trowa gave Jimmy a look of appreciation. “There you go. Five times. Now what were you saying about Fords?” Bob growled and grumped, but didn’t retaliate. He went back along the shelves, returning a few moments later with the requested can of WD-40 and tire rod end remover…and it did look something like a C clamp. “It’ll be $18.56, Trowa,” Jimmy told him. The door chimed and he looked up, smiling in welcome. “Well hey, Glenn. How you doin’?” “Doing good, Jimmy, doing good.” Glenn Maxwell walked up to the counter, touching Trowa’s elbow to catch his attention. Turning, Trowa nodded his head in greeting. “Morning.” “Morning.” Glenn was strangely subdued from the last time that he and Trowa had met. But then, things had changed since then too. Uneasy, and trying to hide it, he inclined his head to indicate Trowa’s purchase. “Removing tire rod ends?” “Duo is. I’m playing gopher for him.” “Oh.” Trowa hadn’t been the army’s best infiltrator for nothing. He could read people well enough, and Glenn Maxwell was disturbed about something. And he was betting that something had to do with Duo. “Can I get you something Glenn?” Bob asked. His eyes were alert and trained on the two men, sensing that something was up. “No, I came in to talk to Trowa. Mind taking a walk with me, son?” “…not at all.” Trowa quickly finished paying before following the other man out of the store. There was a small park across the street from the store, and it was there that Glenn led him. Trowa took a moment to stash the bag of tools in his truck before following. The little park was shaded with huge trees, a small brook winding its way down toward a nearby bridge and disappearing under it. Glenn chose to sit on a bench underneath one of the trees, the gesture an oddly heavy one. Trowa gingerly sat beside him, his eyes on Glenn the entire time. Quietly he ventured, “This is about Duo.” “Guess that’s obvious.” Glenn blew out a breath, forcing himself to look at the young man sitting next to him. “I like you, Trowa Barton. You’re a good man, I can see that as plain as the nose on my face. If you and my Duo were friends, only friends, I’d be proud as a peacock. That Lindsey woman tells me that you’re more than friends, though. Is that true?” “Yes sir.” Trowa silently damned Lindsey for being such a malicious gossip. And where was Duo when he needed him? This was not going to be a comfortable conversation. He made his voice sure and steady as he answered. “He’s my lover.” “I’m glad you can say that to me, Trowa. I’d be upset if you couldn’t admit the truth to my face.” Glenn looked away, eyes blind to his environment. “I always wanted my boy happy. I rather hoped he would find someone like you—just a female version.” The smile on his face was a little rueful. “Don’t get me wrong, son, I’m not homophobic. Duo told me years ago that he liked to bat both ways, so to speak. I had time then to get used to the idea. It’s just that…well…his mother is going to start harping on this day and night. She’s already started and I really was hoping I wouldn’t have to put up with that. And I had hoped to have some grandsons to carry on the name.” Trowa relaxed slightly. This wasn’t going to be as bad as he feared. “I can understand both of those points. I’m pretty sure my father feels the same way. I probably would too, in your shoes.” Glenn nodded, almost as if he were concluding an internal debate with himself before matching his eyes with Trowa’s. He didn’t see anything in those green eyes except resolve. “I’ve seen the way you look at him, Trowa, so I don’t think I have to say this. It’s obvious you care about my son. But just keep in mind that if you hurt him, you’re going to have to deal with me and my twelve-gauge shotgun.” Trowa choked, trying not to smile. “You’ll have to get in line, sir. Wufei’s already called dibs if I ever screw up.” “Wufei, eh? That boy is sharp. Should have known he’d figure it out before anyone else.” “Lindsey went to him first to complain,” Trowa offered blandly. “Ah. Shoulda known.” Shaking his head, Glenn stood. “I won’t keep you, Trowa. I know Duo’s waiting for those parts. Be good to my boy, that’s all I ask.” “I will.” An impulse built at the back of Trowa’s brain and let loose before he could think it through. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow night? I have friends coming down to visit, and I’m sure they’ll want to meet you. Have dinner with us.” Glenn blinked at the invitation. Slowly he started to smile. “I think I will. What time?” “Dinner’s usually done around six or seven. Just show up.” “Alright. And so I will.” Briefly he clasped Trowa on the shoulder before walking away, his step lighter than it had been before. + Duo stood in his shower, trying to scrub umpteen layers of oil and grease and dirt off his skin. Repairing the tire rod end had been a pain in the butt, but at least it was done now. And he hadn’t been alone doing it. Trowa had stayed to help, keeping him company. And telling him about a very interesting conversation held with his dad. Duo was a little…actually, he wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Disturbed wasn’t the right word, more bemused that his father had felt it necessary. Duo knew that no such conversation had been exchanged with Lindsey. She would have certainly told him about it if Glenn Maxwell had talked to her. Why had his father felt it necessary to talk to Trowa? Rinsing the last of his conditioner out of his hair, Duo stepped out and quickly dried off. He needed to talk to his father, and this was one conversation that he didn’t want to do over a phone. It took twenty minutes to get dressed and drive the distance to his parent’s house. His mother was usually at the needle shop for sewing classes on Thursday nights. Duo referred to it as the “Stitch and Bitch”. He still let out a relieved breath when he didn’t see his mother’s vehicle in the driveway. Hopping out of his truck he went inside the house calling as he entered, “Dad?” “In the den!” Duo went right, dropping down a step into the sunken den. His father was propped up in his lazy chair, TV playing a football game. The sound was muted as Duo came in, the father turning in his chair to give his son undivided attention. Duo sank onto the couch next to his father, leaning forward slightly with his elbows on his knees. “You know what I came about, don’t you?” “Trowa told you about our conversation,” Glenn confirmed. “Didn’t expect anything different.” “I don’t mind you talking to him—he doesn’t either. I just…why? Why did you feel it was necessary?” “Because you’re my son, Duo. Do I need a reason?” Duo sighed. Great. It was going to be one of THOSE conversations, where he had to drag every answer out of his father with the same finesse that you would pull alligator teeth. “You didn’t do this with Lindsey,” he pointed out. “Bah. That woman is nothing more than an aggravation. I knew it wouldn’t last with her.” A light bulb went on. “But you think it’ll last with Trowa, is that it?” Glenn sat silent for a moment, chewing that question over. “…maybe,” he admitted. “Maybe that was it. I see the way he looks at you, Duo. That boy is so in love he can’t see straight. I don’t think he’s going to let go of you any time soon.” “That’s mutual, dad,” Duo assured him softly. “Yeah, I can see that too.” “Does it bother you?” “No. Lindsey bothered me.” There was a twinkle in Glenn’s eye as he continued. “At least your taste is improving. Your Trowa is much better than that Lindsey woman.” “On that, I have to agree.” Duo sat back, feeling like he had passed the rocky point of the conversation. It was all easy sailing now. “Why don’t you come fishing with us this weekend? Trowa has friends coming down from up north, and I figure we have to teach them how to properly catfish.” “Sounds good. Trowa invited me over for dinner Friday as well. Why are you two so insistent that I come over?” Duo hesitated, searching for the right words to capture what he was feeling. “I’m not sure about Trowa, but for me… I don’t want you to tolerate him, Dad. I want for you to be friends. Trowa is someone well worth knowing.” Glenn snorted. “Hell, Duo, I know that. I wouldn’t let him mess with my boy otherwise.” That was probably true. Duo grinned at his sire. “So want to go fishing this weekend?” “You gonna help me sneak out of the house?” “Of course.” Duo was just as happy to leave his mother in the dark until they were well out of range. “Then of course I’ll come. Now sit back and watch football with your old man and tell me what you’ve been up to, besides corrupting poor innocent yanks that don’t know better.” ~*~*~*~
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