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"Just Ducky"Written By: Kaeru Shisho Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing
or its characters, nor do I make any monetary profit off this story. Rating: NC 17 Warnings: AU, male/male pairings, language Pairings: 1x2, 3x4 Summary: When Trowa Barton and Wufei Chang adjust to college life, Duo Maxwell and Heero Yuy learn to balance work with their changing relationships. A/N: My deepest thanks go to the kindness of Snowdragon
and WaterLily for editing and encouraging me. "Just Ducky " Chapter 2-- Job Hunting "Silence is golden but duck tape is silver." -- Anonymous I had résumés. Lots of them. They were customized for half a dozen different jobs, proving I was nothing if not flexible, and, as Tro' can attest to, I am bendy, heh, heh. The papers were all typed and neat and in a folder emblazoned with the Winner Corporation crest. Quat had read them over and printed them out on good paper for me before we left his awesome house, so I knew they were up to snuff. I kissed my lover, packing lots of passion into it, and he returned it despite Wufei tapping his foot and snorting at the door. "Hold your horses!" I shouted. It seemed appropriate. "When will I see you, babe? Yeah, you'll be late...you don't know what's up and all, but--?"" "As soon as I can," he said, because that's all he could say. He pulled apart from me, pulled a tight smile from somewhere, and then the two left, pulling at my heartstrings. The door closed behind them with a quiet "snick," which was a good thing or I might have been sucked up in the draft and carried along with them. Tro' and I hadn't been apart for a long time and I already felt the separation. I knew Tro' hadn't been looking forward to leaving me behind either. I was silently grateful, so far, for 'Fei's active interference. My lover wasn't much for mingling and most of the orientation events sounded to me to involve mixing with the other entering students. Not that I thought Wufei Chang would enjoy a minute of it, but he would feel obligated to attend, and drag Trowa along, while Tro' would share his long-suffering patient streak with our impatient friend. Hopefully, anyway. Time for me to find a job before I lost my mind pining after him. "Idiot." I never used to be so damned needy. I crammed a baseball cap over my head, tucked my tell-tale braid under my jacket and took a walk. Where I'd be going there'd be adults who'd seen war time and who might recognize me in a bad way. It just seemed wise to keep a low profile today as I dropped off my resumes, shook hands, and met lots of people. Plumbers, security men, grease monkeys, various guys in construction. They all took a resume and promised to give me a call when something opened up. Sure. I was young but not stupid or gullible. I knew it would take awhile making the rounds by foot, but I was really hoping to find a job I could walk to. We hadn't a car and wouldn't be getting one soon. I coulda stole one, but, naw... it wasn't the war. I remembered to get some cash at a bank. I had credits from my portion of the L2 junk yard and my veterans' benefits, but most small Earthside shops used money in cash form. And as easy as it would be to steal what I needed, I wasn't going to become a thief, because Trowa said I was a better man than that. The way he believed in me made me a want to be that better man. From the bank, I decided to make my break longer and dipped into a cool-looking sandwich shop for lunch. I stood with my back slightly turned so I could observe the inside and keep an eye on the door. Habits never change; especially the ones that help a guy survive. There was a couple eating in the corner, movie posters on the walls, and a giant menu over a sign that read: "Sit anywhere," so I did. I hopped up onto a counter seat, since I was alone and that would free up a table. I removed my cap and sat on it so I wouldn't lose the thing and looked up at the overhead, handwritten menu. I wanted to point out the "sprouts substituted for lettuce at no cost" note to Trowa then remembered he wasn't there; that's why I was alone. I'd really attached myself to that guy. Was that dangerous or a good thing, I wondered, to let someone have so much control over my happiness? Couldn't be helped. I was too far gone over him to run or hide from commitment. And that thought made me go all warm and gooey inside. A shout jarred my gooey. Two people were arguing beside the counter. I tried to ignore the bickering as I read over the menu, but it grew more interesting as it heated up. "Well, he just quit and I'm not working more overtime. I haven't sat down in days," said a nice-looking girl. "You can't walk out and leave me the only one till closing," whined a wimpy guy. "The boss is here right now. You get him to hire someone. He won't listen to me!" she shouted and then her eyes passed over me. "A cute guy like him would be my suggestion." And with that, she tossed her apron onto the counter and marched out the door. I smiled at the complement, although I almost felt sorry for the wimp. He turned his limpid brown eyes my way and smiled. "Sorry, 'bout that," he said. "What can I getcher?" I ordered a soda and sandwich and he skipped off to lay in the order and bring me a glass of water. Nice Earthside custom. Free water. "Tough day?" I asked. He sighed as he placed the water on the counter, as if it weighed a ton. "Yes." "Me, too." I held up my resumes like a fan. "Job hunting." When his eyes widened, I realized that sounded like I was asking him for a job. I was sorry I did that when he smiled and more so when he asked, "You ever wait tables?" "Er, no, but I sure busted up a lot of them, heh, heh..." I said, my voice trailing off as I noticed how I'd just confused the guy, who was my age but hadn't lived half as much. I ended up explaining how I'd fought in the war, run a wrecking business and junk yard after that, lost it, and moved to Sanc with my boyfriend-- emphasis on the "boy" part. Take me or leave me, hopefully leave me to eat my lunch, which arrived near the end of my tale. "I gotta ask the boss, he owns the place? But he'll love you, I'll bet. Hold on." I had a mouth full of food or I would have shouted, "NO!" The "boss" was about ten years my senior. My first impression was of Treize Khushrenada in the line of his jaw, the curl of blond hair over his forehead, and in his air of confidence. That was it though. They didn't look alike or anything. "Jet Barr, owner of this and several more establishments around the city. And you are--?" "Duo. I just wanted to say—" "Interesting." Looking over my stack of resumes, which I hadn't offered to him, led him to humming and grunting before he dropped the papers neatly. "Veteran? Uh, hum... You live close. Are you licensed?" "Yeah." I had one to drive a car, required Earthside, and one to pilot most anything that flew but big commercial shuttles. I didn't mention my "terrorist" military service. Let folks make of that as they would, if my name stirred up memories, and ask me directly. I'd been underage at the time and didn't have to report it, or so said my veteran's rights brochure. (If 'Fei and Trowa could leaf through college brochures, then I could browse my boring manual and give it a fancy name, too.) "Only licensed plumbers get jobs—and union for these others." "Huh? I did all that on L2 without union memberships or special licenses." "Not here in Sanc or on most of Earth." I hated Jet Barr. I had a hand in my front pocket, fiddling with the cross I'd once worn. The chain broke on a piece of equipment in the junk yard and I'd kept it in my pants ever since, only moving it on wash day. Touching the cross calmed my nerves and cooled my temper. "No kidding." "Waiting tables, however, only takes a certain amount of talent." His smile turned smarmy as he moved between me and the menu board, blocking my view of it. "What drinks do we offer?" I rattled off what I recalled, "But I don't know what chai is." "It is a tea brewed with spices and milk and usually sweetened. Good job. Can you tell me what today's specials are?" I told him. "You're hired." Jet smiled and held out a hand to shake. "Part time. Matt can show you the schedule, if you have a few minutes." What the hell? I didn't want this job! Ah, hell. As I juggled that around in my head I chewed my ice cubes and watched Matt chatting with a couple just seating themselves. Okay, why not for a little while? I liked the socializing. Once a better offer came in I'd be gone. Jet was still standing there looking tight as sails in the breeze, waiting for me to answer. "Sure," I shook the man's hands, letting him feel the calluses and letting him know I wasn't the usual feeble college kid he probably interviewed most the time. I left after getting my "hours" and found that I couldn't face going home an employed part time, minimum wage worker. It was laughable if not pathetic. I'd run a business, piloted a Gundam! But it was something. I decided I'd continue my hunt for a fulltime job, leaving a trail of resumes and my smile behind me, while waiting tables to fill in time—but I wouldn't tell Tro' about the job. Yet. It was only a little secret, besides, Tro' wouldn't be home till late. That unpleasant prospect sent my mood into the pits. I found a bar and lost myself for a few hours. How had I come so far that I hated being my own company and come to rely on another man for my good times? Easy. Since I gave Trowa my heart for safe keeping. Yep. That was about the time it stopped pounding to its own beat and needed his to keep a steady rhythm. I was missing him right then so much, and it was only our first day here without constant contact. What a wuss I'd turned into! (o) Trowa and I were apart much of the next few days. I had my job, the nature of which I'd failed to tell him because it was too humiliating. I mean, any job can be fine, but it was so damn humbling to think that waiting tables part time was all I was qualified to do. So, I told him I was still job hunting, which was true, but incomplete—that's all. Looking back, I knew now that I'd loved my junkyard. Making sellable stuff out of refuse. Hauling and clearing space for others to build and fill with new crap and recycling valuable materials. I'd loved my Deathscythe. All that power at my fingertips. The challenges it had posed both physical and mental. In the past, my work had absorbed me and used my gifts, even my genus at times. Someone would surely call me with a better job soon. I looked into licenses, which were expensive and required that I pass a test. I took and failed the plumbing test. That was disappointing. It wasn't anything like what I'd expected. The exact numbers to meet ridiculous local regulations I could just look up, but I was expected to have them all memorized. I know Trowa would have helped me study for another try, if he'd even known I was taking a test, but my bruised ego said "no" and then my stubborn streak kicked in, closing the subject. I didn't tell him I failed. I didn't tell him I'd taken a test. I didn't tell him I wasn't job-worthy on Earth. He had plenty of test-troubles of his own. Wufei stepped in to help him prepare for the writing placement test he had scheduled for the next day in between and around other orientation ordeals. Trowa was so damned relieved when 'Fei said he'd "be of assistance." I thought I'd do my fair share, so I dished up a lemon-chicken over rice dish for dinner and, later, I whipped up some chai, a drink I'd become addicted to, and served it with cake left over from the sandwich shop. That way I could listen in without obviously eavesdropping, being both thoughtful and a snoop. I always was clever at espionage. "You said the math test was tolerable," 'Fei was saying when I handed him his cake. My boyfriend barely looked up from his paper. "It wasn't bad. I could answer most the questions and understood the problems." "Going over a few grammar lessons will improve your writing scores. I know what these tests are like." "Yeah," 'Tro murmured. "Here." 'Fei took the practice sheet and read it over while sipping the drink. "This is good, Duo." "Thanks," I bit my tongue to avoid telling about the shop where I'd learned how to make it. Call it hubris, but I really wanted to keep my mortifying job a secret. "Still job hunting?" he asked me. "Yes." I wondered if I could get a job at the shuttle station and nixed that. The commute there would take hours a day, which meant I might as well kiss my relationship with Trowa goodbye. We'd never see each other. "He has several interviews." Ah, that was Trowa throwing in his support, and like a lifesaver ring I grabbed for it. "One every afternoon," I said. Coincident with my work hours, heh, heh. And before we delved further into dangerous territory, I deftly changed the subject. "So, what's Yuy up to these days, 'Fei-man?" "Duo," my boyfriend growled a warning at me. At me. I didn't think just asking about Heero would send our bud here into a panic. "It's all right," Wufei said before Trowa could interfere. "We have...an understanding. He wants to come here." "Great. There's plenty of room at the inn, as they say, so what's the problem?" I asked. I mean, Wufei bought a three bedroom condo expecting Heero to share with 'him. "Duo," Tro' cautioned again. Man, was he afraid the 'Fei-man would get pissed and queer their study time? "Apparently, there is a greater need of agents familiar with space to remain in space rather than being Earthside," 'Fei said. "Une will not reassign his duties or allow a transfer." "That's tough. So, he's not coming?" I asked, refusing to meet my lover's glare. "He's looking into alternatives." Wufei looked so unhappy as he turned back to Trowa and his paper, I figured it was best to pry no further and dropped out of the conversation. I'd pushed them both far enough for the night. I wasn't jealous, really. I was happy that Tro' and Fei' were forming a friendship, that Trowa had even reached out for help and Wufei had gladly supplied it. It was good for both of the anti-socials to branch out, just as long as the branches only went so far and the roots stayed firmly rooted where they belonged, if you get my drift. Chang Wufei was lonely and I didn't blame him for admiring my man's better qualities. I trusted Tro'. I did. I expected Fei' was also so honor-bound not to infringe on our relationship. My trust extended... pretty far. I hung around most of the time he was over anyway, um, for the camaraderie and all. From what I could tell, my boyfriend wasn't much of a writer. He had the heart of a poet to me, and I wished that counted for something to the test givers even though I knew it didn't. "It sounds all right to me," Tro' said. "Don't get defensive," his tutor snapped. "Formal writing isn't like common speech." I listened in on the lesson that followed and completely agreed with my boyfriend's assessment: university people made communication more difficult than necessary. When it looked like they were taking another break, I rejoined them on the grey couch. "What's it like?" I asked, making my question vague enough to get an interesting range of answers. "Cake's good," my boyfriend dutifully replied. Fei' didn't bother answering me. "Thanks," I said. "How about this orientation crap?" "Foolish waste of time, for the most part," Wufei said. "The average entering freshman is younger than us, mere children." "Holy crap! You're freakin' old men?" I laughed. "During the war we were like the babes at the controls." I thought it was a crazy turnabout. They both smiled indulgently and went back to the grammar lessons. I was happy that they were here in my home and not on campus for another night of "orientation," but the weekend couldn't come fast enough for me. I wanted my man to myself. (o) There was nothing wrong with my boyfriend's sex drive. Cool and reserved on the outside, hot and passionate on the inside—all for me and only me. Sex also made him talkative. Not noisy, that was me, but chatty when I was at my worst, worst at thinking coherently. Like after 'Fei's departure, we were in bed fooling around when he asked, "Have you ever wondered where I learned to do this?" Trowa asked this while working a finger over the skin behind my balls, applying gentle pressure, and driving me crazy. He'd brought the topic of past lovers up before, and I'd always dismissed the subject. I did it again this time, too, while I had the presence of mind. "No, ne- he-ver. I don't need to know every detail of your past. I—oh.... don't want to know, frankly, about your past boyfriends." "Not even curious?" "Some of that stuff is j-just plain too personal and-- oh God...yes...do that... ah...more-- ought to stay that way." "I see." Even though he said that, I know he didn't or he wouldn't have kept bringing it up. "My interest is in the Trowa of today, the one I have my hands on." I emphasized that with a squeeze of whatever flesh I had a hold of. "Who has his hands on and in you," he corrected me as he conducted an interior ass probe prior to stretching exercises. "AH! -c-cause that's going to be the future one I get to deal with. The past was a child. I'm in love with the man." "I like the sound of that." "Which is good, 'cause that's the lassst you'll hear from me on any subject for a while." And it was all true. He kept me completely absorbed in bed and I didn't want to hear or talk about our past sexual adventures. I knew he hadn't been a virgin for a long time, which was fine with me. I'd rather have a slutty guy who knew what he was doing than an ignorant virgin anyway, not that Tro' was a slut. I think he just wanted to get it out in the open so I wouldn't think he was hiding anything from me. I hoped I'd settled it once and for all. Now that we had each other we hadn't looked around for any other action. I only wanted him and he seemed satisfied with just little ole me. Perfect. I mean, really, really perfect. I could not imagine life any other way, with anyone else. Ever. From his contented moans, I could tell he was pleased with fucking me through the mattress of our very nice bed. And then to even the score or thank me or just make me the happiest man alive, he sucked me off to the outer reaches of outermost space, bringing me and our evening romp to completion. Yeah, perfect. After that we wrapped up in each other and sank into happyland, not bothering to shower. Showers, hygiene, and cleanliness were way overrated. We both agreed on that. We liked how we smelled after sex and didn't want to wash it away. Keeping my hair in a braid meant it didn't have to be washed often, keeping his short meant the same thing except he had to get it cut. We didn't mind combining our sweat and male scents when we were so comfortable. He called it a turn-on, so it wasn't just me talking. We kept a messy house, except for where it mattered, like the kitchen and bathrooms. Water meant germ accumulation and there was no place like Earth for germs. In space ships and stations and colonies all used various air scrubbers to clear out most microbes, if they worked, which on squalid pits like L2 they rarely did. But here on planet Earth, the disease possibilities were rampant, and so he and I did wash and launder and vacuum some. We didn't reek! We washed and bathed; we weren't total slobs, but we weren't squeaky and perfumey like Quat and his big boy toy Zechsy, or manic about cleanliness like 'Fei. We smelled like men, real men, and our house was a mess, just like a real man cave. (o) The rest of the week flew by with the school boys skipping off to orientation and me to work, such as it was, and sometimes shopping for food, food that at least I'd get a chance to eat. Tro' was having to make do with stuffy cafeterias and coffee shops. I guessed that part because I didn't really know. He didn't say and I didn't ask. He did scarf down all my leftovers when he got home, regardless of the hour. One glitch. "What's this? Something new?" he asked me. "Ah." I wouldn't lie to him but I didn't want to tell him I brought it from work, since he didn't know about my work. "It's from a restaurant. I thought I'd tear it apart, ah, de-construct it, and try to make it myself." "It's good. Go for it, love." "Um, I looove it when you call me that," I drawled, and turned his wolf-it-down time into rub down time. My hands slipped under his t-shirt and slid them over his lean back, taking time to massage the muscles along the way. "God, Duo... so good." He moaned and leaned into my arms, so I concentrated my efforts on kneading out the kinks around his neck and shoulders. My hands were small and I wasn't trained, but I knew what felt good. "This orientation stuff is making you tense. Isn't it supposed to make things easier when classes start?" "Who knows? Just don't s-stop," he hissed. "Hmm, not even to do this?" My hands were accomplished seducers of horny boyfriends, too. I wrapped my arms all around him, snuggling up to his warm back, so I could tweak his nipples and ripple my palms over his abs. "So hot," I told him in case he couldn't guess my thoughts. "You're body is amazing-- all that circus trapeze stunt stuff does wonders." The man was strong. We'd worked out on the satellite together, but not yet at the condo. I needed to get in more exercise and was about to ask him if he'd like to go downstairs and work out a bit. "We toured the sports center today," he said instead. "Huge pool. Incredible place." "Hmm, I know another incredible place. Wanna see it?" He tossed the refuge from his late night dinner into the trash. "How about we shower together first?" Well, screw the workout downstairs; sex counted as exercise, too. I could play it his way. "I'm game," I said. I was probably a bit "gamey", too. Yeah. I could smell the grease in my hair from the fryer. "Absolutely! Lead on, man!" Tro' shook his head and mumbled something with the word "crazy" in it. I definitely heard the word "crazy," maybe "lazy". Maybe both. That left it all up to me to show him a good time and prove I was energically the sanest person he'd ever know.
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