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"Firsts"Written By: Waterlilylf Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. All rights
remain with Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. No profit being
made here. Rating: R Warnings: Yaoi, Post Cannon, sap, angst Pairings: 3x2 Summary: How do you get past losing the love of your life, the person you fell in love with when you were just fifteen? Trowa desperately needs someone special in his life, even if he hasn't quite realised it yet..
"Firsts"
Chapter 5 - First Morning: When he wakes up, he's alone and the only thing he feels is the sheer inevitability of it. Duo's a runner. Everyone knows it. Stupid to assume that a couple of bouts of mind-blowing sex are going to change that. He should have damn well tied him up when he had the chance. He rolls over, burying his head in a pile of pillows and thinks he might just fall back asleep. He's not tired though: it's broad daylight, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, and he has a vivid memory of how Duo felt, curled against him. They're the sort of memories which are in no way conducive to sleep. Instead, he pulls himself out of bed, fishing for his jeans, and it's ridiculous how his heart lifts when he catches a glimpse of what's outside. Duo's jeep is still parked there. He's smiling as he cleans up a bit, using a bottle of water and an old t-shirt. If this is going to be any sort of a regular thing, he'll have to look at getting some sort of running water supply installed. Duo's in the kitchen; he can hear him clattering about from one storey up, and when he walks down, He's frying something at the stove and whatever he's making smells divine. He's figured out how to work the coffee machine too; another heavenly aroma. The only thing wrong with the picture is that he's fully dressed, unfortunately; actually, more than fully dressed since he's wearing a sweater of Trowa's over his own shirt. His hair is still loose, though, and it's impossible not to remember how it had felt, running it through his fingers. The feel of it sliding over his cock. Oh, God. He's got Duo Maxwell cooking him breakfast, in his kitchen, wearing his favourite green sweater. A couple of playful sunbeams dancing and darting over his hair, washing it over with glints of coppery-gold. 'Oh. Hey.' Duo gives him a slightly uncertain glance. 'You don't mind me foraging, do you? I woke up and I was kind of starving.' 'I mind you leaving my bed.' Trowa backs him against the wall, and bends down to kiss him. The spoon or spatula or whatever Duo was holding clatters against the tiles, and then he has both Duo's arms around his neck, and Duo's mouth open and inviting under his. Every bit as good as he remembered. Duo's obviously managed to find the bathroom at some point, because he's used Trowa's shower gel, but he also smells of sex and desire and that unique Duo-scent that's so good he breaks off the kiss just to nuzzle Duo's neck. 'Yeah, looks like you really mind,' Duo teases. He leans up to give Trowa's earlobe a nip, and then ducks out of his arms. 'Down, boy. Food first. Sex second.' 'Your priorities are seriously messed up.' He obediently stands back a bit though, watching Duo turn around to whatever he's making, that bloody, too-big jumper hiding his incredible ass. 'My priorities are just fine, thank you. Want to make sure you have enough energy for the next round.' He's obviously trying to sound breezy but his voice, gratifyingly, is more than a little breathless. 'You're the one who fell asleep on me,' Trowa points out. 'And I bet you were snoring your head about ten seconds after.' True enough: Trowa shrugs anyway. 'Maybe you should have stayed awake to keep me entertained then. Not very nice, coming to someone's house and conking out on them, and then running off the next morning without even a little wake up booty call.' 'Yeah, running off to cook for you,' Duo scoffs. 'Any other complaints?' 'You've got too many clothes on, Maxwell. Way too many damn clothes.' 'You put in a halfway decent heating system, then we'll talk about me going around half-naked as well as you,' Duo retorts. 'Not that I'm complaining or anything, 'cause the view from here is like, wow,' he adds, eyes raking over Trowa's naked chest. He smirks at that: OK, so there's not going to be any of that first-time after-the-fact awkwardness then. Not with the way Duo is looking at him. 'I can warm you up if you're cold,' he murmurs, He slides his hands under the hem of the jumper, and then under Duo's t-shirt, finally finding skin. Duo gives a delicious little shiver as he slowly slides one hand upwards, searching out a hard little nipple and tweaking. He rolls the taut little nub between finger and thumb, loving the way Duo's breath hitches. 'I bet I could make you come just by doing this for long enough. We'll have to try that.' 'Later, Barton. I already said, food before fucking.' Trowa yelps as Duo gives him a sudden smack with a wooden spoon he's conjured apparently out of thin air. 'That's a stupid rule,' he sulks, nursing his hand. 'And that damn well hurt.' 'You're such a baby.' It gets him a sweetly lingering kiss though, even if Duo does pull back before it can ripen into anything else. 'Go sit down. It's just ready.' He doesn't think anybody, ever, has cooked anything especially for him. Cathy's culinary talents start and end at reheating canned soup, and he isn't sure if it counts that Quatre had always given their kitchen staff lists of his favourite meals. Duo produces two loaded plates though, and a jug of freshly-squeezed juice, looking as good as anything concocted by a five star chef. 'Pancetta, spinach and sweet potato frittata,' he announces with a flourish, a string of words Trowa's never expected to hear out of his mouth. There's an artfully-arranged tomato-and-rocket salad as well, and wedges of buttered sourdough toast. 'You can cook.' 'Duh.' Duo grins at him over a glass of juice. 'Lived in Italy, remember? I did a couple of courses. Didn't know you were such a foodie either.' 'I'm not.' 'Uh huh,' Duo mutters through a mouthful of toast. 'I'm not the one with seven different types of olive oil. And I ran out of patience trying to count your jars of mustard. I love your kitchen, anyway. Want to steal your appliances. I guess you like to cook, huh?' Trowa just nods; he's taken his first bite and OK, maybe he's not ready to reassess his food-versus-sex priorities, but if this is a sample of how Duo cooks, he might almost consider it. 'Yeah, not like this though. This is amazing.' Duo shrugs. 'It's nothing much.' 'Stop scrounging for compliments. It's great. You didn't need to go to all this trouble though.' 'Nah, it was fun. I like cooking. I don't get to do much at 'Fei's. He's just got a microwave and a rice cooker, and he hardly ever buys food. I don't know how he survives.' 'He does have Zechs taking him out all the time.' 'Yeah, good point,' Duo grins at him, looking generally happy and at ease with the world. He doesn't really look like that very often. Trowa clears his throat, and carefully eats a forkful of salad. 'So, apart from the perils of possible starvation, how d'you like staying with him?' 'It's good.' Duo leans over to help himself to more toast, sliding the last piece onto Trowa's plate in the process. 'He's been really great, actually, but his place is a bit small for two. He did say I could stay as long as I wanted, but it's kinda cramped when we're both there. 'Specially if Zechs is around as well.' 'You can sleep over here sometimes, if you want,' Trowa offers. 'You know. On a couple of conditions.' 'Yeah? Like what?' 'Cooking, definitely. I'm not sure what else. You know how to give massages?' 'Huh? No. Never tried at least. Why?' 'Just trying to work out if I might keep you,' Trowa teases. Sort of teases. 'I mean, you're not that bad in bed, and if everything you cook is like this you're pretty handy with a frying pan and a pound of butter. It's really just the massage thing I'm stuck on.' 'Oh, fuck you, Barton.' Duo's laughing at him though; brightly, uncomplicatedly happy. 'I'll massage your cock with my damn teeth if you're not careful; how'd you like that?' It's an effort to swallow, suddenly. 'Why don't you try it and see?' 'Yeah?' Duo takes a quick slurp of his juice, and then drops under the table, before Trowa realises that it's not just a joke any more. There is a quick scrape of teeth at the beginning, not nearly enough to hurt, but somehow the spice of it is almost enough to get him off. Instead, he tangles his fingers in the glory of Duo's hair and holds him in position when Duo starts teasing, and bites his lip against a too-fast climax. Duo keeps his mouth in place even after Trowa's soft, mouthing and nuzzling until he can feel himself starting to stir again. Duo presses a kiss to the very tip, and then slumps back against his leg, tilting his head back so Trowa can stroke his hair. 'How was that for dessert?' 'What, you mean you didn't make actual dessert? I might have to rethink the whole keeping you thing.' Duo makes a face at him. 'Who says I want you keeping me?' 'I do. Face it, who wouldn't want me? I've got my own lighthouse.' 'God, you're so full of it, Tro. Your eyes should be brown, not green.' 'And you're a mouthy little shit.' 'Thought you liked my mouth.' Trowa laughs, hauling Duo up to his lap so he can kiss him, and curves his palm over the very definite bulge in Duo's pants. 'Oh, I do. Now, play nice, if you want me to take care of that for you. I suppose I might consider keeping you anyway. A chef in the kitchen and a whore in the bedroom; isn't that supposed to be the perfect guy everyone wants?' It's a stupid, dumb joke, because he's blissed out of his mind with sex and sunshine and the scent of Duo's hair in his nostrils, and he knows it's a mistake as soon as the last word is out of his stupid fucking mouth, but by then he's sprawling on the floor where Duo shoved him and Duo is gone. Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Perfect, Barton. Perfect way to ruin the perfect morning. He's out the door only a few seconds after, but Duo's probably halfway out of the fucking country. He isn't. He hasn't even gone far, just to the line of boulders which form an impromptu seawall. The tide's coming in though, lapping over Duo's bare toes and Trowa winces in sympathy, knowing how cold it must be. Duo doesn't seem to notice, staring fixedly out to sea with strands of hair blowing around his face. 'Hey.' Duo doesn't protest when he wraps both arms around him, just holds himself stiffly away. 'I'm sorry,' Trowa whispers. 'I'm an asshole.' 'Heero was all about this death before dishonour shit, you know?' He says it in a brittle little voice that only just carries above the waves, the crying seagulls. 'Fucking idiot. Not like he knows anything about the real world; he just lives in this little Heero bubble where everyone has to be so damn perfect, and if you make one fucking mistake, you're nothing.' 'You're not nothing.' Trowa pulls him closer and this time Duo lets him. 'And he's hardly perfect himself.' 'No one ever forced me,' Duo says finally. 'I think that was nearly the hardest thing for him, you know. Like, I'd actually made my own choice to go out and get screwed by strangers so I could afford to buy food, instead of just lying down and dying of starvation. I mean, he could maybe have got past it if I'd been raped 'cause then he could go and avenge my honour or some shit like that. Should've just told him that was how it had happened, but it was back when I had that dumb no-lying rule, and I told him the truth, that I was just this L2 whore who'd done it for money. Never nearly good enough for him.' 'Don't say that. Like you say, he's a fucking idiot.' He kisses the top of Duo's head. 'Why the hell did you stay with him so long?' 'Because,' Duo mutters. 'He's Heero and I fell for him when I was fifteen, and I thought that one day there'd be this miracle and he'd fall for me as well. Stupid, huh? And, you know, it wasn't like it was all bad. We were good, sometimes. Really good. I mean, we're total opposites, and we have fuck-all in common really, but we just kind of get on. Got on. Probably more as friends than anything else; guess that should have told me something, right?' 'Maybe that you deserved better?' He rests his chin on Duo's shoulder, pressing close to steal just a little of Duo's body heat. It's damn freezing out here. 'Yeah, worked that out a while back. probably should've just tried for a clean break back then. Might've hurt less. Just - took a while to process it, you know.' 'I know.' He does, if anyone does. It had taken him years, after all, to end it properly with Quat. As ended as they were, anyway. 'Duo. Are you still in love with him?' 'Never said I loved him,' Duo says in a sudden flash-flare of bravado. 'Dunno. Can't just stop the way you feel about someone, can you? And it's so freaking stupid, cause I know how he feels about me, and I still.... You know what? It's a bloody shame he's gay, or he could be with Relena, and he could be with this pure, perfect person and keep her on a pedestal and then maybe he'd be happy.' 'Pedestals are stupid.' 'Yeah.' Duo takes a deep breath, and swivels around to face him. 'So. You knew all that shit about me, right? I mean, not like Heero doesn't go around yelling it when he's pissed. How d'you feel?' 'I knew, yeah,' Trowa says slowly. 'Not 'cause of all the crap Heero says; no one believes that; everyone thinks it's just stuff you shout at each other. I just - you had a nightmare during the war, once, when we were at the same safe-house. I don't think the others knew what it was about but...I got it. You did what you needed to, to survive. Heero mightn't get that; I do. I grew up like that. I let Trowa Barton fuck me, in exchange for a flight in Heavyarms.' 'For real?' 'For real, yeah. He had a thing for me, from the start. Came after me once and I slashed his fucking face open. Here.' He touches his own cheek. 'Thought he'd come back with some of his goons, but I guess he didn't want them thinking he couldn't handle me by himself. He kept offering me money, all kinds of shit I didn't want. Then, he hit on the one thing I did want, more than anything. Probably wasn't too hard to guess how bad I wanted it; I was always hanging around the hangar, grabbing any excuse to get near.' 'Was he good to you?' 'No,' Trowa said baldly. Of course he hadn't been. No reason to be. He'd had a fifteen-year-old boy at his mercy, in what amounted to his own private stronghold, surrounded by his father's men. No reason in the world to be kind, or even careful. He'd known, going in, what it would be like. He'd met people like that before. He'd known Barton was a predator. Quatre had cried, hearing about it. Duo just looked at him, eyes bright and fierce and focussed. 'Was it worth it?' 'God, yeah.' Power for the first time in his life. All that power under his hand; the power to change the world. And it had set him on the path of his life, to Quatre. And Duo, now. 'Was it worth it? A million times.' Duo nodded. 'I'd have let Howard and all the Sweepers screw me sideways if it'd got me five minutes in Scythe.' 'No, you wouldn't,' Trowa scoffs. 'You'd just have stolen him, the way you did anyway. Listen, can we go back inside? I'm freezing my ass off out here.' ~ * ~ |
