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"Lost and Found"Written By: The Plotting Housewife Disclaimer: Gundam Wing belongs to Bandai, Sotsu
and associated Parties. This work is written for pleasure not profit. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: Yaoi,Friends to Lovers,Angst,Pining,Romance,Preventers,Alternate
Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Pining!Quat, Oblivious!Duo, Fluff, sap Pairings: 2x4, 5xS Summary: Duo keeps finding paper hearts in the
Preventers lost and found bin. "Lost and Found " "Damn, how does this thing keep filling up?" Duo muttered. "You'd think Preventers would have better heads on their shoulders and not keep losing shit all the ti -" He paused to bend down, his arm reaching in, fingers grasping a folded piece of paper. He pulled it out and unfolded it. It was a heart made out of red construction paper. "Never know what'cha gonna find in the lost and fooound," he said in a sing-song voice and dropped the heart into the waste basket, thinking nothing of it. He yanked Wufei's ponytail on his way out of the break room, earning him a growl. "Maxwell, touch my hair again and you'll wake up braidless." Duo snickered and ruffled Quatre's blond locks as he passed by him on his way to his own cubicle. "How's it hangin' on this fine mornin', Kitty." Quatre pulled himself away from his work long enough to swat at Duo's hand irritably. "I hate it when you call me that," he muttered. "You love it. Don't even lie." He plopped down into his chair, spinning on the swiveling pedestal. "Can't believe we're stuck in the office on such a beautiful day. Soon as we get out of here, I'm hopping on my board and riding some waves. You down, Quat?" The clicking sound of typing in the cubicle next to him paused and blue eyes peeped at him over the partition. "Duo, you know I don't know how to surf. I don't even have a board." "I can teach you." The crystalline eyes clouded over with a shade of uneasiness, then disappeared as Quatre lowered his head back to his work. "I think I'll pass." "What, don't you trust me? I'm a good surfer." The eyes reappeared and Quatre stared at him silently for a moment, brows raised in a modicum of concern. "Promise you won't let me drown?" Duo held up three fingers. "Scout's honor. I'd never let my friends drown. I even know mouth to mouth." He winked an indigo eye and Quatre blushed to the tips of his ears. "I know I'm probably going to regret this, but what the hell. I'm in." "Hey, have a little faith in your pard'ner." "The last time I had faith in you, I was parading around in a dance club wearing leather pants." Duo leaned his head back and sighed wistfully. "Ah, yes. That was a good time." Quatre snorted and shook his head. Good time indeed. He'd taken Duo's advise that he needed to get out more. Live a little. Have some fun, blah blah blah. The answer was apparently to go dancing in a rowdy gay club in Castro. He'd allowed himself to be dressed, in aforementioned leather pants. Duo had several pairs for some inexplicable reason, though Quatre had to admit his friend looked damn sexy when he wore them. He, however, felt ridiculous in them. They looked like a set of 'fuck me' twins which Duo insisted was the point. The dancing had been fun until he found himself harassed by a burly guy who smelled like he hadn't seen a shower in weeks and had a serious case of not being able to take 'no' for an answer. He also couldn't keep his hands, or other parts of his anatomy, to himself. Quatre had asked him nicely, then firmly. Eventually, he'd had to warn and then threaten the brute who kept grinding his dick into Quatre's ass. When Quatre finally got fed up, he decided to just leave the dance floor, pissed that he couldn't have a good time without being dry humped. When the neanderthal grabbed his arm in an attempt to pull him back, Quatre twisted his wrist until it snapped and stomped away as the guy howled in pain. He found Duo bumping uglies with a cute twink on the other side of the dance floor and shouted in his ear. "I want to go. Now." "Aw, Quat. Already?" "I just broke some guy's wrist. We can either go now, or you can bail me out of jail." "Shit. Okay." He grasped his dance partner's chin and licked a stripe across unnaturally glossy lips. "Sorry, baby. I gotta run." The kid pouted and shot Quatre a dirty look, but quickly looked away when Quatre's eyes gleamed with the promise of pain and sidled away to find another piece of meat to grind against. Duo hooked an arm around him as they walked out into the chilly night, grumbling, "Honestly, Quat. I can't take you anywhere." "The guy wouldn't listen to me! I tried to walk away and he grabbed me. What was I supposed to do?" "Okay, I'll give you that one. Still, it wouldn't kill you to get into it a little, y'know? Let a guy slobber all over you for once." Quatre barked out a laugh. "Maybe I don't want to be slobbered on." "You're going to be slobbered on whether you like it, or not. Have you looked in the mirror? You're a dick magnet." "Gee, thanks. That's very reassuring." "Jus' sayin'. One of these days it could be worth your while." Quatre didn't say anything, but he sincerely doubted it. He most definitely did not want to be slobbered on by some random creep. The one he really wanted was walking along beside him and said object of his affection didn't even realize it. Of course, Duo would never be interested. He'd never really expressed anything more than platonic feelings towards him. Quatre supposed he should be happy to be considered his best friend, though he worried that he bored the lively man who was full of adventure and intrigue. Duo's idea of a good time was going out and painting the town red. Quatre's was a quiet, romantic evening at home. No, it would never work. Still, if he didn't get off his ass and at least try to find someone, he knew he would end up being a lonely, bitter old spinster. He had tried a few times, but the dates he'd gone on were less than satisfactory. The endeavor of looking for a mate was proving much more difficult than he thought. He just couldn't shake his feelings for Duo no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps the Winner curse extended beyond issues of fertility. Maybe they just weren't destined to have long term lovers. Considering his mother died giving birth to him, leaving his father a widower, and only two of his twenty nine older sisters were married, he figured it was a fair assumption. It still didn't make the lonely nights any less lonely. Too far gone in his own daydreams, he didn't notice Une behind him until she barked, "Reports!" at his back. Quatre jumped three feet off the chair and blew out an annoyed breath. He hated when she did that. In the cubicle next to him, Duo cursed loudly. "Oh, shit!" He smirked and picked up the pile of documents off his desk, passing them to his forgetful partner over the partition. Duo shot him an eternally grateful look and grabbed them, spinning in his chair to hand Une his paperwork with a charming grin. "Here you go." Une eyed him beneath brows lowered in disapproval, lips pursed. "Are you ever planning on writing your own reports, or just having Winner do them for you?" Duo scratched his head awkwardly, a fetching blush emerged across his cheeks and nose. "Eh-heh. I will get them done myself from now on?" "Is that a question, or an answer?" "Errr...an answer?" "Maxwell." "Okay, okay. I will definitely do my own reports from now on. Happy?" "Ecstatic." She took the proffered stack of paperwork and turned to Quatre who dutifully handed over his own reports. "You're going out into the field today. There's an illegal weapons smuggling operation just outside of town. I expect you both to be ready to report to your location in no less than forty five minutes." She turned to leave, then paused, glancing over her shoulder. "And Maxwell." "Hm?" "Write your own damn reports." "Yes, Sir. I'm on it." Duo turned and pretended to type into his computer. "Working on it now, Sir." "You don't have anything to write yet," she barked. "Heh. Oh yeah." She walked away, shaking her head. Quatre turned as Duo propped his chin on top of the partition. "You're a life-saver, Quat. What would I do without you?" Quatre snorted, "Probably get fired." *** The stakeout went about as well as Duo had hoped. The criminals blew their own cover and came out shooting. For weapons' smugglers, they were shit shots. Duo and Quatre engaged in a brief exchange of gunfire before bringing them down relatively easily. Duo hopped up onto to one of the large wooden crates as they waited for their backup to arrive to rope off the scene and confiscate the shipments which not only included caseloads of automatic weapons and ammunition, but also a few dozen kilos of cocaine buried in coffee grounds to thwart the K9 units. Quatre shot him a wry look. "You know you're sitting on the evidence." Duo raised a brow. "And?" "Never mind." Quatre donned his mask and gloves and extended his pocket knife, carefully cutting open a package to test it. He passed it over to the Preventers Drug Unit. "Definitely coke. It's pure, too." He glanced up as Duo squatted and cracked open another case, digging through the contents. "Looks like heroin," said Duo. He passed a packet over for testing and looked at Quatre, his hands dangling over his knees. "Looks like we found that Columbia shipment that Chang and Po lost track of last month." Quatre nodded. "Une will be happy." "She damn well better be," Duo muttered. That woman was exasperatingly difficult to please. "You think if I present this to her on a golden platter, she'll finally start to like me?" Quatre chuckled. "She already likes you. You just drive her crazy. You know she lets you get away with murder." She really did, too. Duo got away with things the rest of her Preventers would have been given their walking papers for. "She would let you get away with it, too, y'know. She adores you." "She adores me because I follow the rules." "Rules schmules." When they returned back to headquarters, Duo dutifully typed up his own report, which Quatre was thankful for, though he honestly didn't really mind. Duo was not the clerical type. Though, neither was he, but several years pushing papers as the head of his father's company conditioned him for it. It wasn't something he enjoyed, but it was something he was used to. Quatre glanced at his partner as he worked in his cubicle and he felt a rush of warm affection for his friend. He watched the tip of Duo's pink tongue peek out between his lips as he typed, leaning forward to peer into his screen with squinting eyes. "Do you need glasses?" Duo shot him an offended look. "Hell no! What would make you ask that?" "Because you're squinting at your screen like you're severely near-sighted?" "Bah." Duo waved his hand in dismissal. "That's just habit." "If you say so. You'd look cute in glasses, though." "Are you hitting on me, Q-Bean?" "No!" He blushed. "I'm just saying." "Well, I'll agree with you because I look cute in everything, but I'm not going to test your theory." "God, you're so full of yourself." Duo hit the enter key with a flourish of finality. "Done." "I know how hard that was for you." "Oh, shush. You wanna grab a coffee?" "Sure." It took Quatre to confirm that Duo had indeed typed up his own report, not believing the emphatically defensive Duo, and even then, she watched the blond closely, tapping her pen on her desk as she tried to determine whether or not he was fibbing. She finally nodded, satisfied. "Fine. Get the hell out of my office. Both of you." "Thanks for believing me, boss," Duo grumbled as they waited for the elevator. "Do you blame her? You don't exactly have a great track record for that." "Whatever." They went down into the cafeteria for the coffee which, in Duo's case consisted of an eight dollar sugary latte with whole milk, whipped cream, caramel sauce, and chocolate shavings sprinkled over the top. Quatre's eyes boggled as he clutched his own, black with no cream, or sugar. "I don't know how you consider that a coffee. it's more like a calorie-laden dessert." "It's got coffee in it, don't it? So, it's coffee." He shrugged and took a sip and Quatre laughed as a whipped cream mustache appeared on his upper lip. He also felt a rush of longing. He wanted to lean up and lick it off and he pressed his legs together as a surge of arousal spiked in his groin. Duo did it for him, his tongue swiping up to clean the cream off and Quatre could almost imagine kissing him, tasting the sugary cream mixed with the flavors of coffee and Duo. Duo shot him a strange look. "You okay?" He shook himself, jolting out of his fantasy, blushing and feeling utterly stupid. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He looked away and sipped his own drink, trying to take his mind off of painful personal desires that would never come to fruition. Duo, ever observant, tsked at him across the table. "No, you're not. Something's on your mind. So, what is it?" You. "Nothing." "You're not worried about the surfing thing, are you?" Quatre had briefly forgotten about that, which was stupid since he was going to be treated to the honor of seeing Duo in a speedo in just over an hour. "No, not really. I trust you. I've just never done it before. My people don't come from areas with large bodies of water." "Quat, you've been living in San Fran for six years. I'd think you'd be used to it by now." "And yet, here I am." "Listen up, Desert Boy. I'm going to make it my mission to teach you to surf. By the time I'm done with you, you'll be hangin' ten right alongside me." He curled his three inner fingers in, leaving his thumb and pinky sticking out and shook his hand in Quatre's face. He couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I'll do my best to make you proud then." "Aw, you'll do fine. You got the best teacher around." "I'm pretty sure that's a contentious claim," Quatre chuckled. Duo shrugged. "So let them contend. I'll fight anyone who says they can surf better than me." His brows lowered in a mockery of anger and he puffed out his chest, glancing around the cafeteria like he was expecting someone to denounce his prowess of the sea. Quatre propped his chin on his hand and fell in love with him all over again. *** Quatre tried, he really did, but he had trouble getting the hang of it. He wiped out time and again as Duo hollered at him about his pathetic form and posture. He yelped as he was swept under wave after wave and finally waded to shore after two hours, tired and coughing up salt water. He plopped down into the sand, leaning back on his hands, and watched his friend ride the waves like he was born for it. Duo's long braid slapped against his back as he dipped and weaved between the swells, his wet bangs plastered against his forehead. He was deeply tanned from spending hours in the sun. His body had developed a beautiful musculature from years of training and they flexed sensually beneath that smooth, golden skin as he worked to maintain his balance. He was aggressive on the water, almost predatory, a wicked gleam in his eyes that was heady and made Quatre weak in the knees. It reminded him of Duo's Shinigami days, darkly bellicose, ferocious. He idly wondered what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of that rapacious side of him. He yearned for it in ways that made him drunk with desire. He could feel the body-blush that bloomed over his pale skin, relieved that he could blame the hot sun for his pinkness. He felt invigorated, not only from the coolness of the sea and the fresh salty air, but by watching the object of his affection in all his glory. There was just no way Quatre could settle for someone else. He leaned forward, resting his arms across his knees and stared at the godliness who owned the waves, grander than Neptune himself. He had to let Duo know how he felt. He would have to turn things up a notch. Duo eventually came back to shore and Quatre's heart skipped a beat as the setting sun created a breathtaking backdrop, reflecting off the sea like liquid gold and encasing Duo in silhouette. He looked away with some effort, trying to act casual as Duo walked up to him and jammed his board into the sand. Unable to control the impulse, he glanced back and sucked in a breath at the way the water dripped down that tanned skin, the rivulets weaving in between the stark relief of muscles, sparkling in the fading sunlight, and he felt woefully inferior. He stared down at his own skinny, pale limbs, feeling like a mere mortal in the presence of divinity. "Ah, damn. Now, that's what I'm talking about." Duo ran his fingers through his bangs and looked down at Quatre. "And you didn't drown." Quatre snickered, despite his feelings of inadequacy. "No, I guess I didn't. I'm not a bad swimmer, you know." "Oh, I know you can swim. You're really good at it. You've got that slender swimmer's bod." He blushed at the prospect that Duo noticed his body, feeling delightfully flattered and forced out a laugh to cover his awkwardness. "Glad it's good for something." Duo sat down next to him, their knees brushing together, and Quatre shivered at the difference in temperature. His own skin had warmed after sitting in the sun and Duo's was chilled from the water. He also shivered for other reasons that he refused to address. Still, it didn't stop him from pressing his knee against Duo's while trying to pretend he wasn't. "Don't sell yourself short, Quat," said Duo. "You're gorgeous. Like I said, you're a dick magnet." But I only want to be a magnet to one dick...Okay, that didn't come out right. He cleared his throat, uncomfortable. He didn't want to be a 'dick magnet'. He only wanted one person's dick...er, interest. He almost said as much and bit down on his tongue, hard, to stop the confession from bubbling between traitorous lips. Instead of answering, he looked out over the horizon, watching the other surfers coast along the large swells. A pair of guys crossed his line of vision. Muscled types, physiques that showcased probably several hours a week lifting weights at the gym. Of course they were wearing short speedos, too, and of course they walked along the beach like they owned the place. His heart clenched as he chanced a glance at Duo and noticed his friend tracking their every move. He realized with a sickening pang that Duo was just being nice. If Quatre was as 'gorgeous' as Duo claimed he was, he'd be looking at him the way he looked at those guys. Quatre wasn't buff, wasn't tanned, wasn't a beach god. He didn't fill out his speedos like those guys. Didn't even wearspeedos for that reason. He just didn't measure up. He never would. And it hurt. He brushed sand from his legs, feeling suddenly tired. So damn tired of being second best. "Are you done?" "Mmm?" "I said, are you done here, or do you want to hang out at the beach some more?" He hoped it was the former. Hoped maybe the two of them could go grab a pizza somewhere and just be together without the distraction of half-naked men strutting around like peacocks. He glanced up, waiting for the answer. Duo was still watching the two guys who were now eyeing him in return. "Duo." "Wha'dya say, Quat?" He wasn't even paying attention to Quatre anymore. Quatre's eyes stung and he blinked treacherous tears away before they could even think about leaking from his ducts. He felt like a bumbling idiot, a tag-a-long, an inconvenience. The 'best friend' was only useful until something better came along. Which it had. He shook his head and looked down at his toes, digging them through the sand. "Never mind." "Okay, I'll be right back." Duo jumped up and ran off down the beach before Quatre could say anything. He watched as Duo approached the two guys and started chatting them up. They never once looked back at him the entire time. That was how it always was. Once Duo had found himself someone of interest, he forgot about Quatre. He rested his chin on his knees and gazed out towards the setting sun feeling painfully invisible. Even more so when the three of them walked off together to God knew where. He lost sight of them after a few minutes. He got up and went to the beach house to gather his things from his locker. It wouldn't be the first time Duo ditched him for a hot guy, or guys. He hooked his feet into his flip flops and slung his towel over his arm. When his phone beeped, he pulled it out of his pocket, already knowing who it was and what it was about. Don't wait up. I'm going to be awhile. I'll see you in the morning. He slammed the locker closed and headed to his car, biting his lips in futile rage. I'm not going to cry. I'm not going to cry. And he didn't. At least not until he got home and was in the privacy of his shower where the salt of his tears mingled with the salt of the ocean and swirled down the drain along with his heart. This was the only time he allowed himself to indulge in his sadness, his pain, where no one could see it. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, cursing those guys, cursing Duo, cursing himself most of all. For not being able to just get over it and move on. Move on and be happy. He slipped on a pair of pajamas and crawled into bed, briefly entertaining the thought of reading, but he just wasn't feeling it. He considered jacking off. While Duo was off somewhere getting laid, Quatre was becoming well-acquainted with his right hand. He didn't really feel up to it, but he decided to go for it anyway. Maybe it would help him feel better, or at the very least, relax. He slipped his pajama pants past his hips and kicked them off towards the foot of his bed. He was still soft so he did what never failed to bring him to the aching point of deep arousal. He opened his legs, his fingers curling down over his groin, beneath the base of his sac, the tips just tickling the sensitive skin behind his balls. He sighed as the inevitable sparks of electricity brought his nerve endings to life and his cock began to fill with blood. Beneath his closed eyes, he pictured Duo laying between his open thighs, face level at the apex of his legs. He pictured those deep blue eyes, bordering on purple, shimmering as he stared across the expanse of Quatre's body and into his own eyes, communicating all the things he wanted to do. He saw the telltale smirk, that jester's grin, curl up both sides of that beautiful mouth and he squeezed his eyes shut as his hand curled around his cock and slid up and down the hard flesh. It wasn't enough. Not tonight. Tonight, he needed something else. The one thing that truly plunged him into the depths of his most covetous desires. He lifted his feet off the bed and brought his knees to his chest, sticking the fingers of his left hand between his lips, coating them in saliva. He trailed them down, over his twitching abdomen, bypassing his groin, to the tiny opening nestled between his ass cheeks. He didn't stop to think about it. Didn't stop to remind himself of the loneliness that followed when he did this. He needed it too badly now to stop. To think of the consequences. He circled the puckered skin, wetting the ring with his spit, then pierced himself with the tips of his index and middle fingers. His right hand stilled on his cock as he sucked in a shaky breath, neck arching as he sunk his fingers deeper. He pushed them in until the knuckles of his hand pressed against the swell of his ass and he pulled his hips back to fuck up into his fist. In his mind, long hair swept along the length of his arms as his lover, his love, drove himself between his thighs. Jewels of amethyst sparkled down at him, brimming with the desire and love he so wished he could see in real life. His body rode the waves of pleasure, his mind, the waves of love, and together, ascended to the peak of intoxication, the rapture dismantling him and sweeping him away like petals carried along a gust of wind. Tears of exquisite delirium seeped past his clenched eyelids and rolled down his temples as he wept through his orgasm, his dream lover joining him in blissful euphoria. As always, once the mindless fever of ecstasy passed, he was left feeling worse than before he started. When his eyes opened and he realized the one he loved was not there to share the joy of lovemaking with him, that he'd only made love to his hands once again. The vulnerability and shame caressed his skin like the talons of invisible demons, mocking, contempuous, and he curled into a ball, drawing the covers up over himself, over his head until only his face was visible. The need for shelter overwhelming and he nuzzled into his pillow trying to soothe away the emptiness in his heart. He finally had to admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, he should start resigning himself to a party of one. That this was as good as it was going to get and maybe he should start accepting that. The words he couldn't say slurred out between lips lax with drowsiness as sleep took over his mind. Only fleeting images of long hair and beautiful eyes began to slip against each other in ways that increasingly became nonsensical as Duo smiled at him from a place where Quatre's love was returned. A place where Duo only had eyes for him. He would take it. Even if it was only in his dreams. "Damn you. I love you, you stupid bastard..." Why can't I stop loving you?
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