"Wish Upon a Star "

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, AU

Pairings: 3x4

Summary: When you wish upon a star, it makes no difference who you are, unless you're the heir to the Winner business empire. So when you do find a means of escape, how long can you hold on to the fantasy, and the man of your dreams, before reality takes over?

"Wish Upon a Star "

 

Taking Stock:

Although he hadn't technically lived there for over a year, Duo Maxwell still got the 'going home' feeling when he rounded the corner of Victoria Street into Victoria Crescent and saw the bookshop.

It looked good in the early morning sunlight; they'd repainted it just a couple of months ago, and it was still all new and shiny. Trowa had done most of the woodwork in a lovely glowing red, that set off the honeysuckle-coloured walls, and the rest of the them had done the creative stuff.

Duo had covered the walls, inside and out, with imaginary creatures – sinuous, elegant dragons; delicate unicorns, and a gorgeous, ethereal phoenix. Trowa's nine-year-old niece, who fancied herself as a budding artist, had painted princesses and goblins and trolls. Her mother, Tro's sister Cathy, and Middie, the college student who helped out part-time, both of whom had zero artistic talent, had coloured in the trailing flowers and plants Duo had drawn for them.

It was nice; the fact that they'd all helped. Like a sort of family thing.

As he always did, he swung off his bike to rub one toe on the paving slab where he'd first met Trowa. Tro had caught him doing it once or twice, but he'd never said anything. He was pretty good that way; he teased Duo non-stop about the little things, but he was smart enough to know what was important.

And that meeting had been damn important; the start of a whole new life. When the tall guy came out of the bookshop, and walked over to Duo, he hadn't been all that surprised. After a couple of months in Sanque, he'd realised that most of the locals, especially the ones who owned businesses, weren't overly keen on people drawing chalk pictures on the pavement outside their premises.

Instead, Trowa had proffered a mug of soup. That was a new approach. He'd been shouted at, and offered money to leave, and offered rather more money in return for certain intimate services, and threatened with the cops, and told that people like him had no business in Sanque.

'I don't need charity,' he'd said bluntly, shoving his sticks of coloured chalk back into the satchel. The soup smelled really good, and it was a cold day, and those fingerless gloves he'd stolen weren't as effective as he'd hoped they might be. Winter in Sanque sucked. Still better than L2 though.

'It's not charity.' That was the first thing Trowa had ever said to him. 'My sister made this, and she makes the worst soup in the universe. You'll be doing me a favour if you take it; less for me. If you want, you can come into the shop and have it.'

'How d'you know I won't steal stuff?'

That seemed to be the typical reaction to a long-haired, scruffily dressed guy with an L2 accent; that he'd steal anything that wasn't nailed down. Sometimes, you just had to live down to people's perceptions.

Trowa just shrugged. 'If you want a book that badly, I'll give you one. Come on.'

Duo had followed him, not really knowing why. He wasn't about to be a charity case for some bleeding-heart do-gooder; he really wasn't into going off with strange men. But he'd followed Trowa and that had been that.

He'd found a home, even if he didn't actually live there now, and a family. All he'd ever wanted.

And that even made getting up at six on a Sunday morning bearable. He wouldn't tell Tro that, naturally; he'd bitch and moan a bit just because his friend would expect it, but he didn't mind all that much.

Duo sucked in his breath as he crossed the street. It looked like someone had overslept. The curtains at Tro's bedroom window were tightly closed, and the blinds were still down at the shop window.

He was grinning broadly as he let himself in, propped his bike beside Trowa's in the little hall, and climbed the stairs to Trowa's apartment. It wasn't often that he caught his best friend on the hop; such opportunities were to be cherished and used to provide useful ammunition. He'd get a full day's teasing out of this one.

Tro was always nagging Duo about his little issues with punctuality – a way, way overrated concept in Duo's book - and here they were on Sunday morning. Duo was precisely on time; actually, he was a few minutes late, but it wasn't his fault that he'd hit a couple of red lights, and where was Barton?

Not a hair of the man's shaggy head to be seen.

So the perfectly punctual Mr. Barton had slept in for once, Duo mused gleefully. Oh, he'd have such fun with this one. It almost made getting up at this obscene hour at a weekend worthwhile. Almost.

Well, he was going to pay for this. Duo slid the front door open silently and headed for Trowa's bedroom. It was a rare thing to catch his friend napping – in any sense – and he was looking forward to this.

'Yo, Trowa! Wakey wakey!' Duo flung the bedroom door open and goggled. There was a man in the bed, yes; curled rather adorably around one of the big throw pillows, but it wasn't Trowa.

'Whoa! You're not Tro!'

Duo had a fleeting glance of one shocked blue eye flying open, a gasp of horror and the blond head vanished under the duvet.

'Oopies! Sorry about that!' Duo backed out the room, regretting he hadn't got a proper look at Trowa's new squeeze. 'Really sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you like that. I'll be going now.'

Heh, no wonder Tro wasn't downstairs stock-taking, the way they'd planned. From the tiny glimpse Duo had had of the blond guy, he was just as pretty as an iced cupcake, and probably tasted every bit as delicious.

Which begged the question; where the hell was Tro?

'Hey, Trowa! How come there's a hot blond guy in your bed?' Duo dashed through the rest of his friend's apartment – no sign – and ran up to the roof terrace. 'More important, how come you're not in it with him?'

Now, wouldn't that have been a treat? To walk in on Mr. Barton being all lovey-dovey. Although Blondie would probably have died of embarrassment.

'Duo? What the hell are you doing here? It's Sunday morning.' Trowa looked up from nursing a mug of coffee. 'It's early on Sunday morning.'

'It's inventory day, remember?' Duo sang out. 'Remember? You, me, a shit load of books to count?'

'Oh. Yeah. I forgot.'

'I bet you did,' Duo beamed, and then took a closer look at his friend. Tro didn't look like someone who'd just won the blond jackpot. He looked tired – understandable enough – and sort of sad. There was also a bruise on his left cheekbone.

'What happened last night?' Duo pulled out a chair for himself, and plonked down, scooping Trowa's white cat onto his lap. 'Who's the guy in your room? Did he take a swing at you or something?' He winked. 'Likes a bit of S/M, does he? It's always the innocent-looking ones you have to be careful with.'

'How do you know there's someone in my room?' Trowa demanded.

'Oh, yeah, about that. I sort of walked in on him. I mean, I didn't know you had anybody here; I just thought you'd overslept and I'd give you a little wake-up call, and I got Blondie instead. I was literally in your room for two seconds and I apologised and everything so everything's cool.'

'Cool? Yes, I'm sure he was fine waking up to find a total stranger leering at him.'

'I wasn't leering. Minorly ogling maybe, but he skipped under the covers the second he saw me. Now, come on. Tell me how he actually came to end up in your bed and all? And why's he all on his ownsome right now?'

'It's not like that.'

'Yeah. Right. You've got a Grade A hottie in your bed and you slept on the futon. I'll bet.'

'I did, actually.' He put down the coffee and sighed. 'It's a long story. I met him at Stardust last night and…'

Duo broke in, whistling. 'Seriously? You found him at Stardust? Wow! I've got to start going back there; they've obviously started pulling in the cute guys.'

'Maxwell! Can you keep your mouth shut for two seconds?'

Duo nodded, miming pulling a zip across his lips and playing with Mallow's whiskers.

'Anyway, I was having a drink and he walked in, and, I don't know, he just looked totally lost and miserable.'

'First timer?' Duo asked and then slapped himself in the mouth. 'Sorry. But I get to ask relevant questions, right?'

Trowa nodded. 'That's what I thought at the start. Shit, Duo, he so obviously didn't fit in and then he started drinking and I thought he was going to get himself into some serious trouble so I went over and….'

'And?' Duo prompted, since his friend had apparently lost his train of thought.

'We got talking. He was a bit hazy about what was wrong, something to do with his family, but we were getting on fine until he suddenly said it was late and that he had to go, and rushed off like an alarm had gone off in his head.'

'Uh huh. So how come he's currently in your bed?'

'I told you it was a long story. He went off and I got another drink and then Frank - you know him, right? – came in from a break and said he'd seen my friend taking off on foot down Katerina Street. After midnight.'

'Shit,' Duo breathed. 'So you went after him? That's how you get the bruise?'

Trowa nodded. 'He got himself cornered by one of those fucking gangs. Six of them, and he was actually giving a fairly good account of himself.' He smiled faintly. 'He's tougher than he looks. Anyway, I took care of the rest of them, and took him back here.'

'Let me guess; you tucked him into your bed with a nice cup of hot milk and a chaste goodnight kiss?'

'Something like that,' Trowa grinned ruefully. 'Cocoa, actually. Come on, what was I supposed to do? Hit on a guy who'd almost been beaten to a pulp?'

'Sir Galahad,' Duo teased. 'Tro, for a guy who makes his living selling kids' books, you're pretty clueless about how fairytales go. When the knight in shining armour rescues the beautiful princess – or prince in your case – from the evil trolls, he's supposed to get rewarded with all kinds of goodies.'

'He wasn't really in any shape for that sort of thing,' Trowa muttered, and took another gulp of coffee. 'You want a drink? I should go check on him.'

'No need,' Duo said softly. 'He's already here.'

The blond had already come up the stairs, silently enough that neither of them had heard him approach.

He looked even better when he wasn't covered by a duvet, Duo decided. Even if he was obviously embarrassed as hell by this situation and crimson to his ear tips. And those guys last night had had a serious go at him. There was a livid bruise covering the right side of his face, more bruising and a gash on his left arm, and he was walking just a bit stiffly. In other circumstances, Duo might have teased just a little bit about that. Not now, though.

'Fuck.' Duo's eyes swivelled back to Trowa. 'I seriously hope you took care of the guys who did this.'

Trowa nodded. 'Between the two of us, I think we did, yes.'

That was pretty smooth, Duo thought. Not letting Blondie feel like he'd been some damsel in distress or something like that.

Those very pretty blue eyes fastened on Trowa. 'Thank you for helping me last night. I have to go now.'

'No, you don't.' Trowa could move damn fast when he wanted; Duo was pretty much used to it by now. Blondie's eyes widened even more as Trowa suddenly appeared at his side. 'At least, stay for breakfast and then I'll drive you home. OK?'

He was using the voice he normally reserved for shy kids or mistreated animals, but that didn't generally come out for adults.

Wow.

He really had it bad.

Blondie was responding, just as kids and animals always did; the way Duo had once; a few weeks after the first time they'd met. Weird; nearly parallel cases but not quite. Trowa had helped Duo out in a pretty nasty situation, once; obviously, he'd have been able to handle it himself, but it had been nice to have someone on his side for once, and then taken him home.

Not quite parallel though. Duo had been to one to sleep on the futon. He'd never made it into Tro's bed. He'd got the hot cocoa, all right, but never any goodnight kisses, chaste or otherwise.

Trowa had never, once, looked at him like that.

And Duo had certainly never looked at Tro the way Blondie currently was. Well, not when anyone was watching him. Damn, but he was totally adorable. If he'd looked anything like this vulnerable in the club, it was no wonder that Trowa had jumped in and done his Sir Galahad act. Stardust was an OK place, but all gay clubs attracted the occasional predator on the lookout for cute, innocent-looking guys like that.

Super cute, Duo revised his estimate upwards, watching the guy smile for the first time, and then wince. He'd be a knockout without the injuries and wearing some proper clothes, instead of the baggy t-shirt and sweats he'd presumably borrowed from Tro.

A couple of seconds ago, he'd been on the verge of bolting down the stairs, but he was clearly falling under Trowa's spell, and Tro was settling him in a chair, all concerned and fussing over him. Then he was reaching up to touch the bruise on Tro's cheek, and Tro was letting him.

Duo saw his best friend going all mushy over animals and small children on a fairly regular basis, but he tended to be a lot more reserved around adults. This one had really got through all his defences. No wonder; a sweet, shy guy who'd needed to be rescued would have pushed all of Tro's buttons.

'Duo,' Trowa said suddenly, apparently realising there was a third person present. 'This is Cat. Cat, meet my best friend, Duo.'

'How do you do?'

Duo shook the guy's hand, trying not to smile at the formality. Trowa would probably kill him if he laughed. 'Nice to meet you. I'm sorry about bursting in on you like that before.'

Cat – weird name; Duo squelched a desire to ask him if he purred when stroked – managed another faint smile.

'It's all right.' He twisted around in his chair to look up at Trowa. 'You've been amazingly kind to me, but I really should be going.'

'Cat.' Trowa bent down and squeezed his new squeeze's hand. 'It's seven in the morning. You can't possibly have to be anywhere this early. 'I'm going to make you breakfast and then put a bit more ointment on your cuts, and then I'll take you wherever you want to go. Deal?'

'Deal,' Cat echoed softly. Oof, he was really skyrocketing up the adorable scale; dimples and blushes and those little sidelong glances at Tro through those long lashes.

Shit. Cat was way, way too attractive not to have a boyfriend of his own in the background. Duo wasn't sure if Trowa had figured that out yet. Probably not, not given the way he was looking at the little blond. And Cat was looking back at him as if Tro were the Messiah and Santa Claus and the Tooth fairy all rolled into one.

Well, maybe he was, magically, single. Maybe. Something they needed to find out ASAP.

'I really need to use a telephone though. May I please borrow yours?'

Trowa nodded. 'Cordless 'phone in the kitchen. You can take it into the bedroom if you need some privacy?'

The three of them went downstairs together, and Trowa waited until the blond, 'phone in hand, had vanished into the bedroom and closed the door behind him before turning to Duo, one eyebrow raised. 'Well?'

'Well,' Duo echoed, switching on the kettle. 'He's cute.'

'That's it?' Trowa said incredulously. 'That's all I get?'

Duo shook his head. 'Nope. But you're not gonna like the rest of it.'

Trowa took a loaf out of the breadbin and began to hack at it. 'What?'

'You're a smart guy. You can work it out just as well as me. Seriously, how likely is it that someone like him is single? How often do you get guys like that trawling around a pick up joint all alone on a Saturday night? I'm guessing he had a fight with his partner, ran out on him in a snit, and well, he seemed pretty keen to use your 'phone, didn't he? You don't want to get involved in something like that. Tro, you don't know anything about him, do you? I think maybe you need to sit him down and ask him a few questions.'

'Yeah.' Trowa said it heavily. 'He's too good to be true, isn't he? Stupid me, right. Always falling for the unattainable ones.'

~ * ~

Chapter 5

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