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"Flicker Fade"Written By: Miss Murdered Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters - am just borrowing to torment for my amusement Rating: NC 17 Warnings: m/m sex, character death (Howard –
I love this guy and I kill him!), some angst, bad language Pairings: 2x3 Summary: Howard's funeral reunites
the former Gundam pilots in Hawaii. But the reunion is complicated
by the fact Trowa and Duo haven't seen each other for years and the
feelings they once had for each other have never quite faded. "Flicker Fade"
Epilogue Love You Just the Same The flight had been uneventful. A small amount of turbulence over the Irish coast as the plane made its way across land after the expanse of the Atlantic but that was all. Trowa had slept on and off, curling up in his provided blanket and propping his pillow to lay his head against the side of the cabin. Despite the sleep, Trowa still felt groggy as he made his way through the familiar international airport in Brussels, walking to the specialist security line and exiting the terminal swiftly, unsurprised when the day was grey and rain was falling when he walked into the open. Trowa got a cab and wondered about heading home - home to the grey utilitarian block he called home - at least for now but instead when he sat down he nodded towards the driver and said a different location. "Preventer HQ." The driver raised an eyebrow but maybe Trowa's sleep mussed hair, his stubble and the bags under his eyes all indicated that he was not to be questioned as he probably looked like he could kill a man. The silent drive was familiar and Trowa barely looked, checking a few messages on his phone instead as they approached the centre of the city and the large Preventer building, imposing and modern, part of the post-war rebuilding period. Trowa paid the fare with the small amount of Euros he still had in his wallet and he left the vehicle, walking into the bright lobby, the glaring lighting reflecting on the marble floor. With his ID card in hand, Trowa passed through the security check points, shoving his card into the slot and throwing his bag onto the scanner as he walked through the body scanners - no weapons on him to be checked. Soon he was in the elevator, his head hung low and staring at the sparkling floor rather than looking at himself in the mirrored surface of the elevator. Once he arrived at his floor, Trowa scanned the cubicles for a free desk space and spotted one. Trowa and other agents of his kind did not have offices, they hot-desked and used whatever was available and so Trowa selected the first one he saw, signing onto the computer to check his emails and make a request for an assignment as soon as possible. He should've gone and seen a superior, even Une herself but his senior colleagues knew his personality and knew his unorthodox ways and ignoring protocol. So email it was. After completing the task, knowing he was purely avoiding going back to his apartment, Trowa knew he could stall no longer and left the building, walking the blocks to his apartment complex. It wasn't too far away and he stopped for a takeout black coffee on the way, hoping that the combination of the fresh cool air and the caffeine would rouse him from the feeling of tiredness and exhaustion in his bones. It didn't but least it wasted more time - the sudden desire to be anywhere but Brussels coursing under his skin. Trowa just wanted to move - go - and he wasn't even sure where. Back to Hawaii was a dumbass idea but still... His apartment complex was Preventer owned and was where new recruits were generally given living accommodation. Trowa had lived there at the beginning. And he still did. His life undercover meaning he never had time to create roots, a place to belong, and so he'd managed to stay in the same four white-washed walls during his entire Preventer career. They took the money for bills straight from his pay cheques. It meant Trowa had nothing to do but feed himself. Which he did. Badly. Trowa walked up to the building, pressing his finger to the scanner to enter the building and hearing the "bip" that let him in. The lobby was empty and he sought out his mail box, inputting his code and checking the small amount of physical mail he received. There appeared to be something from Catherine, a small box and he shook it guessing it was some gift. He collected the rest and locked it up, taking the stairs to his apartment to delay the inevitable. He was a dumbass. Trowa knew that. He'd never done the right thing - especially when it came to Duo. He should've said a million things - should've asked the damn questions about how Duo felt but he never did. It wasn't who he was. Or that was his excuse. Maybe he was just scared. He needed to get over that. He was getting too old to be scared of commitment. The door to his apartment was grey and dull as all the others on the corridor and he heard the sound of the people on his floor - the sound of music and televisions and whatever else as he opened his own empty place. After inputting a code and using a fingerprint, the door lock mechanism opened and Trowa stepped inside, slinging his back to the floor and leaving it where it ended up. Wasn't like he needed anything in it. He stopped for a second, frozen in the doorway of his apartment, the door still open behind him as he smelt something that didn't belong in his apartment - not the stale smell of a disbanded place. No, it was the smell of frying bacon, the smell of pancakes, the smell of coffee. Trowa didn't tense, only closed and locked the door and followed the small hallway to the open kitchen, pausing in the doorway as he saw Duo in his kitchen. He'd never been to this apartment - probably a good thing as Trowa had kept it as bland as the day he'd been assigned to it so it was something Duo would make fun of him for - tease him for and Trowa would deserve those jests. As it was a fucking depressing place. "You left before breakfast," Duo said, looking up and Trowa didn't move for a second as he watched him work in the confined space of the kitchen. "I'm not going to ask how you did this..." Duo looked up, a smirk on his face. "Just say it's a lil bit of my old magic and leave it at that, right?" Trowa let a small laugh escape his lips. Of course, it wasn't magic. It was probably the fact Duo had access to a private jet due to his high power position and his ownership of the Sweepers. Probably meant he could take a direct flight to Trowa's meandering one. And he'd had time to get food. Not hard as the small store on the corner seemed to be set to provide food for young Prev agents unable to cook for themselves. Like Trowa. Trowa approached, walking the small distance to stand behind Duo, glancing over his shoulder as bacon was being fried, as pancakes were being made and Duo turned to face him after putting the pans off the heat for a few moments. "This time it's gonna be different. You tell me shit," Duo said firmly, his hand at his jawline, tracing the stubble, "if you don't want me here, I'll go but damn it, Tro', no more of this cycle. It doesn't have to be perfect.... Just us." It was difficult to meet Duo's eyes, clear and blue and big, a slight glisten to them and Trowa leaned the distance down, clasping at the back of Duo's head, feeling the softness of his hair. "Stay," he whispered, "as this time you didn't run from me..." Trowa pressed a kiss to Duo's lips softly "...you ran to me." Duo chuckled. "I'm not gonna stop fuckin' stuff up." Trowa shrugged. "Neither will I." Arms looped around his neck, Duo pressing closer, chest to chest, groins bumping and Trowa felt Duo's breath against his skin, hot and wet. "Heero will be happy," Trowa murmured. "Maybe... until we fuck it up." "So let's try not to." And against Trowa's lips, Duo whispered "agreed" as their lips met for a languid kiss and while it was never going to be perfect, probably wasn't going to work, Trowa didn't give a shit as he loved Duo and if it ended the same as it always did he didn't care. As his feelings would never fade. And he didn't want them to.
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