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"The Three of Us "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 of varying degrees of smuttiness,
two dudes, three dudes, masturbation, voyeurism as well as angst,
sap and bad language Pairings: 1x2x3 but all combinations of that in
pairings as well as in a threesome context. Summary: An ongoing series of short drabbles exploring the dynamics and complexity of the 1x2x3 relationship. A/N: This is an ongoing series of short drabbles
that is my attempt to explore how the 1x2x3 relationship would work.
I will update semi–regularly with three chapters at a time told
from Duo, Trowa and then Heero's perspectives. Some will be feelsy/angsty,
some will be porny, and some will be sappy. They have no chronology or order apart from the
fact it is set post–EW. Beta'd by ELLE "The Three of Us " Secrets It was no secret that Trowa was not the real Trowa Barton.
Nor was Heero Yuy the assassinated politician but just a codename
he'd been given. Duo Maxwell was a name chosen by a little boy who
had none - Duo never saying exactly why. "It's just something other people call me, ya know,
it doesn't mean anything," he'd said once, not entirely convincingly. And while the origins of his name were not kept secret,
Trowa kept plenty from the men he loved - why he had a scar that spanned
his upper thigh and hip, why he didn't like the smell of bonfires,
why he felt an affinity for animals. They never asked him though,
Trowa glad of it, especially when he was sat up on the couch in the
night, a headache being dealt with ineffectually by painkillers and
water - his attempt to read something to send him to sleep failing. All of them kept their secrets - Heero would leave from
time to time in the middle of the night, coming back smelling of salt
water and sweat, but Duo took keeping secrets to an art form - a bi-yearly
pilgrimage back to L2, refusing to tell them exactly why and no explanation
for his tattoos or his braid. Trowa, though, did this - spent nights
with an old book, one he'd carried with him since childhood, the pages
crumpled and brown, his childhood notes in the margins. It was nights like this he remembered the dead - the
mercs he'd lived with, the good ones who he'd lost like his Captain.
On deciding that the headache was not going, he went to secure a bottle
of whiskey and a glass, returning and putting them down on the coffee
table. His movements, though, quiet interrupted sleep and moments
later there were light footfalls on the stairs and Duo was in the
doorway, clad in boxer shorts and nothing else. "You want company?" "Yeah." Duo didn't bother getting another glass as Trowa poured,
taking a sip and then offering it to Duo as he sat beside him, his
body gravitating towards Trowa's. They shared a few glasses, found cigarettes stashed
in the couch cushions, a few words shared until Trowa spoke softly,
his fingers twirling a strand of loose braid. "Do you think we keep too many secrets?" Duo sat up, his lips set in a firm line, his eyes downcast.
"I think with all our combined shit some stuff needs to be our
own. For this to work we need to keep something secret." He nodded at that, moved his hand to firmly in the base
of Duo's braid, pulled him close and met his lips softly. Duo moaned
into his kiss, the slow speed combined with alcohol and cigarettes
making Trowa's skin tingle and his headache finally dissipate. Duo backed off a fraction, their noses brushing each
other's. "Should we get Heero?" "No, just you." He didn't say why as Duo slid into his lap, ran his
hands down his chest, nipped at his throat. It was because Duo kept
his secrets tight just as Trowa did, more so than Heero did, or maybe
they both just had more. As they moved against each other, naked, hot, the book
was laid on the floor. A book that he'd had since childhood, given
to him by his Captain in a fit of fatherly affection - 'The Lion,
the Witch and the Wardrobe.'
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