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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"
Go, Go, Go if You Want To Packing up wasn't difficult. Trowa hadn't unpacked properly in the first place and he'd packed up once before - determined to leave straight after the funeral. But of course, Duo had derailed that. Or more accurately Heero had - setting in motion the events to delay his journey home. He looked at his meagre belongings, the new green shirt and thought about whether he should leave it. It wasn't something he'd ever wear in his normal life and he should probably just leave it in the hotel room to be trashed by the maid. But for some reason, he packed it, unable to just throw it away. Maybe some stupid memory of his Hawaii visit, depressing at it was. Duo had watched Trowa pick up his dirty clothing off his hotel suite floor impassively, teasing with his braid between his fingertips as he took sips from a glass of water. He looked on and didn't comment about Trowa's departure - there was nothing left to say. They may've decided that unconventional was the only way they worked but Trowa walking out after a night of impassioned sex with only a perfunctory goodbye did not help matters. The kiss he'd given Duo as he left was on his cheek, Duo turning his head to one side to indicate his feelings on Trowa's decision to just leave. But Trowa needed space, needed a moment to breathe as the smell of Duo lingered and his soft moans reverberated in his ears. He still felt his hair on his fingertips and when Duo was around him, Trowa knew he lost perspective and despite the previous days conversation - the declarations, the discussions, the sex - well Trowa was sure they were just as fucked as ever. So it was time to go home, back to work and normality. But this time he'd call Duo when he got home - and see how he felt after the long flight. Find out whether Duo still felt like an itch just below the surface of his skin or not. Trowa guessed he always would - but maybe it was better if they didn't keep scratching at the scab, the old wound. Once he was packed up, Trowa slung his bag over his shoulder and sent a text to Heero who still offered to drive him to the airport even though Trowa had changed his flight times. Sighing, he shoved the phone in his pocket and walked towards the balcony to look out at the view one last time. He rubbed at his temples as he leaned against the metallic railing, looking over at the ocean and Trowa knew he was walking away at the wrong point - that he should stick around and see if anything became of this but he needed perspective. Perspective he couldn't acquire when he was wrapped up and around Duo. Pushing himself off the railing, Trowa grabbed his bag and prepared to leave the room after a quick paranoid sweep, leaving behind his sad barely used hotel room in Hawaii. It wasn't as though he had anything valuable or worth something to him with him but paranoia still lingered. It always would and he soon strode out, hearing the door "snick" closed behind him. Heero was waiting in the lobby, sunglasses covering his eyes which made his expression completely unreadable. His mood could be anything from neutral to flaming pissed and Trowa had no clue. Heero Yuy should be banned from Ray Bans stores. Or any other sunglasses manufacturers store. "Hey," Trowa said in some form of unnecessary greeting. Heero merely nodded and walked out of the lobby, handing his ticket over to the valet as it wasn't as early as the previous morning. The silent treatment did not surprise Trowa - Heero was not known to be the most talkative person anyway and nor could Trowa blame him for that as neither was he. But he was sure the treatment was because he was leaving after Heero's attempt to bring him and Duo together. The car was pulled round and they got in without comment, Trowa looking back as they drove away from the plush and marble of the resort, his eyes narrowing as he imagined Duo probably getting up from the bed they fucked in last night, maybe getting dressed. Maybe getting breakfast. Trowa shook his head and took a deep breath. He was doing the right thing as he needed to figure it out. He needed to know this wasn't another stupid circle that they were looping in. Trowa didn't want to get hurt again. And Duo knew how to hurt him too damn perfectly. "You have a mission?" Heero asked, his voice low and even. Deadly. It reminded Trowa briefly of the determined boy ready to fight Zechs, ready to offer a gun to the families of the men he had killed - it sounded like war-time Heero Yuy. Which was rare. "Not yet." Trowa knew if he'd said "yes" and lied to Heero, he wouldn't have asked anymore questions. But Heero could check and probably would - hacking into the Preventer database a hobby on a dull day and so Trowa opted for the truth. "You don't think I should leave?" "You spent last night with him." Trowa gave a sharp glance towards Heero, his face impassive, his head turned towards the road and the lazy tourist traffic. Maybe if it had been someone else but Heero, Trowa may've got angry - those rare occasions that he did bother getting angry - but Trowa instead rolled down his window so he could hear the rushing breeze and the traffic, the ocean in the distance. "Sex never solved anything with us before." The grunt in response ended the conversation, or what could be called a conversation by two guys who were unreasonably quiet anyway. Heero knew not to push and Trowa didn't want to offer anything more. Maybe he wanted to know, still, why Heero wanted them together, why it mattered beyond the whole "they were miserable without each other" thing. Trowa mused on it until he couldn't anymore. "Why does it matter to you?" "Because you can have... what I can't." Trowa felt air leave his lungs. "You mean Duo?" Heero shook his head vehemently. "No. You can have him," he said, a hint of deadpan humour in his voice. "No. Love. Relationships." He didn't press for a minute, letting the sound of the traffic fill the car. "You could, Heero." "Don't... not from you." The way he spoke suggested that Heero had had this conversation before and Trowa knew he shouldn't press, shouldn't pry... he knew Heero's life was one that had been shaped by his near brain-washing as a child, his training, then the pain of the ZERO system on his teenage mind but it still seemed so damn sad that he didn't feel he could have someone in his life. Not even an idiot who Trowa loved even though they fought, even though they screwed up... Duo was who he wanted to be with. In a movie, Trowa would've got Heero to turn the car around, he would've dashed to the hotel, flung his fists against Duo's room and demanded his love or something cheesy. Instead, Trowa let Heero drive him to the airport, stop outside the departures in the drop off zone and only grab for his bag when he was ready to leave. "You're the same," Heero said softly as Trowa stalled, paused. "The only difference is you walk away whereas he runs." Trowa had nothing to say to that and he knew from years of experience Heero didn't find it rude for him to get out of the car, a small wave his only gesture of goodbye as he made his way into the terminal building. He looked back as the car drove away, hearing the echo of Heero's words in his head. But then he was walking into the terminal building, going through security, removing belt and shoes, and soon he was in the departure lounge, waiting, sitting, his foot bobbing up and down as he was suddenly restless. He checked his phone to see no messages that he wanted to deal with - there were a few from work, Trowa imagined about his use of the corporate account and fucking around with his flights but there was nothing from Duo. He guessed he deserved that. As yes, he was walking away - walking away just as he'd done before. But in the past Trowa always blamed Duo. As Duo had pushed him away, made it untenable for him to stay but this time... he'd only watched his go, his eyes downcast, his hair messy from the night of sex... his skin seeming to glisten and show the marks of where Trowa bit down and grabbed... Those thoughts were stalled by his flight being called - the first leg he needed to get to New York before he transferred. And he knew if he was going to do anything he had to do it now. Send a message. Leave and go back to the damn hotel. But indecision wracked through his body and Trowa did the only thing he knew he could do without hurting either himself or Duo. He walked towards his gate. It didn't take long to board and soon Trowa was seated in the window, looking out at the grey tarmac, the sunshine, the palm trees in the distance. He didn't glance as someone sat beside him, only watched the vehicles and the people at work, bright clothing making them visible to all. "Good trip?" Trowa turned when the person sitting next to him spoke and he turned to see an older woman and Trowa gave a non-committal shrug. "I was here for a funeral." The statement at least stopped any attempt at conversation as Trowa didn't know whether he'd had a good trip. All he knew was he was going home and he still felt as though he could feel Duo's lips against his throat, his hair on his fingertips and smell in his nostrils. The woman didn't ask anymore and once they were in the air, Trowa let his eyes drift closed, intending to sleep the first leg of his journey and try not to dream about deep blue eyes, parted lips and slick skin. But he failed. He always did. |
