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"Breathless"Written By: Waterliliylf Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All rights
remain with Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. No profit being
made here. Rating: R Warnings: sap, angst, fluff Pairings: 3x4, 13x2 Summary: Quatre finds himself introduced to an
annoying young man, one he can't seem to get out of his head. "Breathless" Chapter 17: In which Duo and Trowa discuss art, life choices and a certain high maintenance blond. Lucrezia let him into the gallery; Duo was halfway up a ladder when Trowa walked into the back, adjusting a painting. 'What d'you think, Lu? Up or down?' 'A little bit up to your left,' Trowa answered. 'Hey, Tro.' Duo never skipped a beat. 'Like this?' 'Perfect. Where's your spirit level?' 'I think Laragh ate it; can't find it anywhere. Wow!' Duo hopped off the ladder and emitted a piercing wolf whistle. 'Look at you, all dressed up!' 'I'm not all dressed up,' Trowa muttered. 'You are by your standards,' Duo retorted. 'I didn't actually know you owned a pair of jeans that weren't ripped somewhere. You look great. All sorted for the big date?' Trowa nodded. 'I made reservations for that Italian place you recommended. I'm picking him up at seven; I thought I'd drop in and say hi first.' Another whistle. 'You're actually driving to his place and collecting him. Wow. And you're all fancy. This must be seriously serious! Are you quite sure you're the real Trowa Barton and not some imposter?' 'Picking him up is the only way to guarantee getting him there on time.' Duo grinned. 'Can you stay for a coffee? You know Quat's going to be late anyway.' Trowa nodded, and Duo picked the intercom and called Lucrezia. It still flummoxed him, sometimes, the way Duo did these things so casually now; asking the gardeners at Romfeller to weed a certain flowerbed, or giving dinner menus to their housekeeper. Trowa wandered around the room, admiring the art and nodding to Lucrezia when she carried in their drinks. Duo just took it all for granted now; having people serve wait on him like that. 'These are pretty cool. Bit more avant garde than the usual stuff you have in here.' They were magnificent actually; huge canvases splashed with vivid colours. I love that one.' Duo pointed at the painting he'd just straightened; an explosion of colours that somehow melded perfectly. 'Nice,' Trowa approved. 'How would that be for an engagement present? Am I supposed get you something?' It cost something to say that, without flinching, but fuck, they were engaged, as attested to by those obscenely expensive rings, and a plethora of gushy articles in the society pages. Nothing was going to change that; it was just another fact of life that had to be accepted. It was worth it; to see Duo's blinding smile in response. 'If you really want to get me a present, I'd love you to spend a bit of time training Laragh. We're going to end up living in an empty house with all our stuff in storage.' 'That's what you get for living in a museum,' Trowa told him. 'But, yeah, I'll try to find a couple of hours next week.' Damn. He'd been making excuses for days; now Duo had asked straight out, he'd have to do it. 'Treize is out on Wednesday evening,' Duo offered. 'You could come over and have dinner if you liked.' Trowa shook his head. 'It's better if you're both there, actually. I can work with both of you; you need to learn the same things.' 'Thanks, Tro.' Duo was suddenly in front of him, one hand reaching up to shove Trowa's hair off his face. 'I like to see both eyes, sometimes. Thanks, really.' 'It's all right.' It wasn't really but it just was. Nothing he could do about it. 'I'll try harder, OK?' He slid both arms around Duo's waist and gave him a quick hug. Duo made an inarticulate little sound and burrowed against his chest. 'What's wrong, Maxie?' Trowa folded Duo into a tighter embrace. 'Nothing, really.' His voice was slightly muffled. 'Everything's just too perfect, you know? Something's bound to go wrong.' 'Nothing's going to go wrong,' Trowa assured him. 'You're living in a fairytale, remember? That's just your Catholic guilt talking.' Duo shrugged. 'Maybe. But I was happy there, at the church. It was like having a home and a family. And then they all died.' 'And it wasn't your fault,' Trowa said firmly. They'd had this conversation so many times. 'It wasn't you being punished for something. It wasn't, Duo.' Another slight twitch of those slender shoulders. Oh, shit. It was impossible not to lean down and kiss the top of his head. A bad, very bad move. He had Duo in his arms, pressed against him and his body was remembering how it had used to feel, to kiss him properly. His mind was wondering if it would be the same; if he kissed differently now; if he tasted differently, and it would be so easy to tilt that pointed chin back and just do it. 'Tro?' Duo looked up at him. There were times when he knew exactly what Duo was thinking; hell, there were times when everyone in the universe could tell exactly what Duo was thinking, and other times when he was as unreadable as a blank page. Trowa let him go, abruptly. 'I'm sorry.' Duo whispered it; a tiny puff of sound travelling between them. 'Not your fault.' That was about as close as they ever came to talking about it. 'So what are the latest casualties?' Trowa helped himself to coffee. 'I thought you were trying to Laragh-proof everything.' 'Trying's the operative word.' Duo groaned, grabbing on to the change of subject. 'You know what she had for breakfast this morning? One of Treize's really nice silk ties. He was pissed as hell.' 'Serves him right for leaving it on the floor,' Trowa said callously, making a mental note to buy Laragh some special treats when he visited. 'Wasn't on the floor! It was sort of dangling from the bedpost and, um, never mind,' Duo finished abruptly. 'I'd love it if you could come over and help us out a bit. Be way cheaper than having to buy a picture.' Trowa winked. 'I wasn't planning to buy it.' 'In your dreams, Barton. I've got this place wired up tighter than a miser's fart.' 'Care to bet on that? You've been out of the game for years now.' Trowa shook his hair out of his eyes. 'So have you.' 'Mostly,' Trowa responded, which was mostly true. Duo's eyes narrowed to amethyst slits. 'Something you haven't told me?' 'Dog training doesn't exactly pay a fortune.' 'It might,' Duo said tartly, 'if you ever took on any customers who'd actually pay you, instead of all those strays of yours. Anyway, you don't need the money. I know how much you have in the bank, and you never actually spend anything.' 'I need money to take Quatre out.' Trowa took a sip of his coffee; it was pretty good. 'What's the big deal? You've suddenly decided theft is morally wrong?' Duo, about to take a drink himself, snorted liquid through his nose. Neither of them had ever been overly troubled by ethics. What was morally wrong was corporations keeping works of art, which they'd probably stolen themselves, or acquired through some sort of sketchy deals, locked in a vault for years, for their investment value alone. 'It's nothing risky, Max. Just a little bit of consultancy work. You ever miss it?' Duo shrugged. 'Sort of. Sometimes. Bits of it. I miss working with you all the time.' He looked down at his watch. 'You should probably get going soon. It's twenty to seven.' 'I guess. Wouldn't want to keep him waiting. Oh, and he wants to go to the bike rally on Sunday.' 'Quatre? For real?' Duo hooted with laughter. 'Tro, I can't see him enjoying something like that.' 'Tell me about it,' Trowa groaned. 'I mentioned it yesterday and he's determined to come. He wants to know all about my life and my hobbies and shit.' 'Yeah, that sounds pretty much like Quat. Still, you'll have a cute blond applauding the hell out of you when you win.' He waggled his eyebrows. 'Might give you a special prize afterwards.' 'I doubt I'll win. I'm seriously out of training. I haven't raced in months.' 'Where you live, you don't need extra training.' 'It's just for fun. And there are horse trials being held on the same day; we can go and watch those when Quatre gets bored with the bikes. Sure you can't come with us?' Duo shook his head. 'I told you. Treize's aunt is having a big family dinner for us on Saturday in Nova and we're staying over. Then there's some lunch thing the next day.' 'Tough being engaged,' Trowa observed mendaciously. 'Quatre wants me to go to this anniversary party for his parents.' 'And?' 'And what? Come on. It's so not my thing.' 'Family's a big thing for Quat. He just wants you to meet them. Look on the bright side; this way, you'll get to meet them in all in one go. Get it over with. And I'll be there.' Glittering on Treize's arm, no doubt, Trowa thought sourly. No, thanks. 'It's just one night, Tro. It'd make him really happy. And you might even have fun.' 'Sure.' Trowa snorted. 'Do you have fun, as you put it, as these society things you go to with Treize? You're actually looking forward to spending the weekend with his family?' 'There are things I'd rather do,' Duo said carefully. 'But it's important to him; he does plenty of stuff just to make me happy, and he'll make it up to me when we get back home. It won't kill me to spend a bit of time with his family. And some of them are OK, at least the ones who don't think I'm a total gold-digging bimbo. I kind of like his Great Aunt Sophonisba, actually. She's mad as a brush but she's always been really nice to me.' 'Isn't she the one who thinks you're a girl?' Trowa took a gulp of his coffee. Duo laughed. 'Yeah, sometimes. I think the hair confuses her. I'm scared she's going to give me a diamond tiara or something as an engagement present.' 'That sounds like a pretty crappy weekend. So are they all over the moon that you guys got engaged?' 'I doubt it. But they'll behave. At least while Treize is around.' 'And when he's not?' Trowa's tone was very hard. 'You can't protect me from everything in the universe, Tro. I can put up with the odd bitchy comment. It's not a big deal.' 'It should be.' Trowa's fingers clenched around the cup, knuckles showing white. Fuck. Those stuck up bastards. Duo was worth the whole lot of them put together. 'Trowa.' Duo's voice was very gentle. 'Just leave it, OK? Sometimes, you've got to pick your battles. And I've already won this one. I've got Treize; I can put up with being polite to the rest of the Khushrenadas a couple of times a year.' 'Pick your battles?' Trowa echoed. 'What the hell is that supposed to mean? That you just stand back and let them call you names.' 'No, actually. It means that I sometimes let things slide because it's not worth the aggro. They're his family. It's sort of nice that one of us has that. Sure, he doesn't get on with lots of them, but they're still a part of his life and some of them are actually OK. If I made a big deal out how some of them really feel about me, there'd just be a massive row and he'd end up storming out and never seeing them again. I don't want that. Anyway, I am capable of looking after myself. Sometimes, I do call them on stuff.' There was a definite edge to his tone now. 'I'm not just his toy boy, despite what some journalists seem to think.' Trowa grinned suddenly. 'Oh, yeah. I saw the two of you on the front of that magazine. Good article?' Duo made a face. 'I didn't read it. It was a nice pic of Treize though.' 'Nice one of you.' Duo just ignored that; he always did. Trowa shook his head. A couple of years ago, he'd never envisaged that his Duo would be gracing the pages of a society magazine like this. Still less, that he'd have become fairly blasé about the fact. Duo just shrugged when he mentioned it. 'It's not as if I like it. But there's no point getting all het-up about it. It's free publicity for the gallery, anyway.' 'You really don't object to having your private life splashed all over the weekend supplements?' 'I told you, I don't like it. Why are you suddenly so curious about all this? It's not like I've never had my picture in the paper before. You'd better get used to it yourself. Given the guy you're currently dating.' Trowa grimaced. 'Dating's a bit of a stretch. We've only been out once. And I think you've just answered your own question. Max, I don't want that sort of shit to happen to me.' 'Sorry, but at some point, someone's going to snap a picture of you two together. Face it, Tro. Your boyf probably has the most famous surname in this whole country.' 'Thanks for the sympathy,' Trowa said sourly. 'Heh, you're dating a cute blond billionaire; he's not exactly a burden. Sorry, but no sympathy here. You'll get used to it.' He gave Trowa a curious glance. 'Do you really like him? Enough to put up with all that stuff?' 'I thought you'd already arranged for the two of us to live happily ever after. It's a bit late to be asking if I like him, don't you think?' Duo's braid twitched. 'It's not like I've forced you guys into an arranged marriage or something. I just thought you'd be good for each other. You're both used to being with partners who let you walk all over them. Sorry, Tro, but you do. The minute anyone starts getting close, or asking questions, or wanting any sort of commitment, you run like hell.' 'Thanks for the analysis. I don't know. I like him, yeah, but he's not exactly my type, is he? A bit on the high maintenance side.' Duo grinned. 'So? You're always picking guys because you think they're low maintenance and it never works out. At least with Quat, you know what you're getting into. And it works both ways. Sure, he needs a fair amount of upkeep, but he really does treat his boyfriends like gold.' Trowa made a face into his cooling drink. 'I don't need someone to bankroll me. And I hate people fussing over me.' 'If you ask me, it would do you the world of good to have someone fussing over you for a change, making you feel special.' 'I don't need any of that.' Trowa drained the dregs out his cold coffee. 'Be realistic for two seconds, Max, will you? It's not like it's ever going to be more than a bit of fun for either of us. At some point, he's going to have enough of playing around with his lifestyle coaching or whatever it is, and go back to work for Daddy. You think I'm an acceptable partner for the guy who's going to inherit Winner Enterprises? That his family would approve of me?' 'I think you'd be an amazing partner for anyone who was lucky enough to get you,' Duo said simply. 'And you don't actually know any of that stuff; you're just making up reasons not to get involved with him so you won't get hurt.' 'Making up reasons?' Trowa shook his head. 'Get real, Maxwell. I hardly need to make up things that already exist. I don't want to splashed all over some tabloid as Quatre Winner's new squeeze. Like you said, he's probably got the most recognisable name on the planet. Guys like that don't end up with guys like me. I'm hardly the sort of person he'll be taking home to meet the parents.' 'He's already asked you to, hasn't he?' There was a teasing little smile dancing around Duo's lips. Treize got to kiss that off, now. 'And yes, you are making up reasons not to be with him.' He poked Trowa in the ribs with one finger and then held it up. 'One. Quat's family loves him to bits. They'd accept anyone who made him happy. Two.' Another poke, harder this time; another finger held aloft. 'You never read those trashy magazines anyway so you'll never know what they write about you. Three. You always say that you don't care what people think, so who cares if they say if you're only after him for his money? You're not, are you?' 'Of course I'm not!' Duo looked happily, Cheshire-Cat smug. 'See? You're probably one of the few people in the entire universe who could say that and mean it. You're perfect for him!' 'Perfect, right.' Trowa coated each syllable with biting sarcasm. 'We argue all the time; he's a control freak who thinks he's the centre of the known universe, and he expects non-stop adoration.' 'Yep, totally perfect. Tro, seriously. Yeah, you'll probably have to put up with some crap. You know how many sisters he has, right? They're all totally protective of their baby brother and they'll be total harpies until they see Quat's happy with you. At some point, you are going to end up with your photos in some gossipy rag, and yeah, all that stuff is shitty.' He gave Trowa a very direct stare. 'It's up to you. But if you're really into someone, it's worth all that crap. I think so, anyway. There's no way I'd ever have given up Treize, just because some sleazy journalist wrote some trash about us, or someone called me a gold-digger.' 'You were right a minute ago; I should be going.' 'God, you're annoying sometimes,' Duo said mildly. 'So I'm told.' 'Just think about what I said, OK?' 'Yeah.' Trowa jerked his head toward the painting Duo liked. 'My offer still stands. Be nice to wake up to. You could hang it at the foot of your bed.' 'We've already got a painting there.' Duo didn't quite meet his eyes, cheeks stained ever so slightly with scarlet. Trowa had never actually been in their bedroom, but he had a pretty good idea what the painting was. He'd seen it one night, at Zechs' studio, before it was finished. He'd wondered, back then, if Zechs had had a bit of a thing for Duo. 'What are these ones supposed to be anyway? Exploding stars?' Duo shook his head. 'That's what I thought at first. But they're actually close-ups of flowers. The guy took really hi-def photos, and then painted them. I've dropped some pretty heavy hints to Treize anyway that I'd like this one.' Duo traced one hand over a swirl of colour. 'You know that poem that goes 'to see a Heaven in a Wild flower'? It's sort of like that.' Trowa nodded. ''Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, and eternity in an hour.' What, Treize has you reading William Blake now?' Duo laughed at him. 'No, he's not into these new-fangled modern poets from the eighteenth century. Quat lent me a Blake anthology. I really just wanted to see the art but some of the poems were cool.' 'Quatre actually reads Blake?' 'Sure. He loves poetry. He's full of surprises.' He was too; answering the door fully-dressed for once, apparently ready to go. Miracles would never cease.' 'You're actually ready.' 'I am capable of punctuality,' Quatre informed him loftily, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. 'You look wonderful. Now, just give me two minutes to feed Samira and get some things for tonight and I'll be ready.' 'I'll feed the cat,' Trowa decided. 'Oh, that would be marvellous. There's some cooked chicken in the fridge and her dried food is on the floor in the pantry. 'You're a spoilt madam, you know that,' Trowa told the cat, who had hopped up on to the table to watch him prepare her dinner. She gave him a blue-eyed inscrutable stare, and then crossed her eyes at him. It was a nice kitchen; a shelf packed with cookery books; tacky foreign magnets and kids' finger paintings covering the fridge, and a lovely watercolour of a bluebell wood. 'There!' Quatre whirled into the kitchen, lap-top bag swinging from one hand. 'I told you I'd be quick. Goodbye, 'Mira, darling. Daddy will be home tomorrow. Be good!' 'That's all you're bringing?' 'Oh, no! My case is in the hall. Don't look so worried! It's just a little overnight one.' 'Little?' Trowa stared at the thing; Quatre could probably have crawled inside and shut it on himself. It was huge. It was bright aquamarine and covered in cartoon stickers. 'Are you staying the night or moving in permanently?' 'Well, I think it's little. Just some toiletries and a couple of changes of clothes for tomorrow. Now, we'd better go. Didn't you say you'd booked a table for seven?' 'A couple of changes?'Trowa demanded, following him out the door. He ended up carrying the suitcase. Naturally. Quatre had presumably also decided to take his geology collection. 'Of course.' Those huge blue eyes gazed winningly up at him as Trowa pushed the elevator button. 'I wasn't sure what you had planned for us to do so I had to pack a few possible outfits.' Oh. Trowa hadn't realised they'd be spending the next day together. That was his Saturday gone down the drain then. Quatre liked plenty of entertainment; liked his day planned out into neatly productive segments. Duo had made a good choice, Trowa decided as soon as they walked into the restaurant. It was cosy without being precious or quaint, intimate without being screamingly romantic. And they had a genuine pizza oven which was a good sign. 'This is lovely,' Quatre beamed around happily as they sat down. 'How did you know about this place?' 'I asked Duo. You told me you like Italian food.' 'I love it.' Quatre, who was never shy in public; never shy anywhere so far as Trowa could see, reached out and squeezed one of his hands. 'This is our first real date, isn't it? Since you asked me out properly?' 'I suppose.' He couldn't remember officially asked Quatre out, but it had presumably happened at some point. And the sparky, sparkly blond wasn't such a bad consolation prize. 'If you'd like to have a drink, I can drive your truck home,' Quatre offered, handing over the wine list. 'You know how to drive a truck?' 'Of course. I've been driving horse boxes since I was old enough to have a license. I'm sure I can manage one little truck.' 'Is there anything you can't do?' Quatre laughed. 'Oh, I'm sure there must be.' 'You really are unbelievable.' 'Thank you.' 'I'm not sure if it was a compliment.' 'I'm quite sure it wasn't. You never compliment me about anything.' That lovely mouth arranged itself into a pout. 'You haven't even told me I look nice.' 'Oh, here we go.' Trowa felt an odd little spurt of happiness; Quatre Winner, surprisingly, was proving quite an effective anti-depressant. 'When I take you home after dinner, I'll show you just how good I think you look. Will that do?' 'We'll have to see about that.' Quatre gave him a coy little smile and picked up his menu. 'Shall we get a couple of different starters to share? I'm starving!' Trowa threw his head back and laughed because he just
couldn't help it. God, this guy was going to be the death of him.
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