Notes: Short 2x3 for my monthly 2x3 Club Dues! It's unbeta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Gonna dedicate this one to Miss-Murdered, who's been having a bit of a rough time!
Warnings: PWP
Duo slipped into the apartment he shared with Trowa on socked feet, holding his boots in his hand. Trowa was a light sleeper. Duo didn't want to answer any questions. Didn't want to see Trowa, if he could help it. He crept silently across the living room, holding his breath and hoping he could make it. His hopes were dashed when the hall light flicked on. Duo winced as he caught sight of his roommate, standing shirtless against the wall.
"Hey, Tro," he squinted in the sudden bright light.
"You didn't check in," Trowa replied, arms crossed over his chest. His knuckles were white, fingers gripping his upper arms hard enough to bruise. Duo swallowed.
"Uh...yeah. I know," he edged closer. He didn't want to talk about this. He was dirty and tired and bleeding, the stitches in his side reopened from his walk up the stairs. This would be the night the elevator didn't work, and they were on the 8th story. It had been too much for the hastily stitched stab wound. Duo prayed Trowa wouldn't notice, that Trowa would turn around and go to his room. He didn't think he could handle a confrontation. Not now, not tonight, after the botched mission and the injury and two days of no sleep.
"You're a week late," Trowa ground out, dropping his hands to fist them at his sides. Duo swallowed again, stilling at the edge of the hall. He was too close. Any closer and-Trowa's nostrils flared, his pupils narrowing. He gave Duo a hard, flat look. "Are you bleeding?"
"I-uh. Maybe?" Duo sighed, shoulders slumping. Trowa could smell it. He'd come too close. He let his bag fall to the floor, suddenly weary. "Probably."
It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Trowa's worry. He did. But he wanted it to mean more. More than just a man concerned for the wellbeing of his roommate. He and Duo were barely friends anymore. They worked together and lived together, but they never spoke. Didn't go out for drinks, or dinner. They didn't have lunch together anymore. The silence gaped between them at night like an open wound, too painful to prod. It was Duo's fault.
He wanted more than just friendship and Trowa-didn't. That had been clear immediately, the night three months ago Relena's birthday, when Duo'd downed a bottle of Jack and kissed him. Trowa hadn't responded. He'd sat stock still with his eyes wide and shocked, and Duo did what he did best: he fled. Things had been strained ever since, and Duo took every undercover mission he could, keeping himself out of Trowa's way. Keeping himself safe from the rejection he knew would come.
"Come," Trowa ordered, stepping to the side so Duo could pass him on his way to the bathroom. There was no hope for it now. Duo was going to have to let Trowa patch him up. Let Trowa touch him, those slim, long-fingered hands caressing him as Trowa cleaned the wound. Duo tugged his shirt over his head, letting it fall heavily to the bathroom floor, then sat on the toilet. The bathroom was cold tile and too bright light. It made his head ache.
"What happened?" Trowa pulled the med kit out from under the sink, then knelt next to him. Duo closed his eyes, leaning back against the cool porcelain.
"Got cocky heading out. They sent someone after me. I couldn't lose him, and he surprised me. That's all," Duo couldn't give him any more information. Trowa didn't have the clearance, and Duo didn't want to talk about it. Didn't want to admit that maybe the stress of the past few weeks had messed with his performance. He'd never not been able to shake a tail before, but he'd been worried-worried about missing check in, about Trowa.
Duo flinched at the sting of soap. Green eyes flicked to his face, then back to the wound, Trowa's intense gaze focused. Duo watched as he inspected it.
"Did you do these? They're terrible," Trowa sounded half-amuse, half-exasperated, and Duo couldn't help bristling.
"I didn't exactly have a lot of time," he defended, lower lip jutting out. Trowa chuckled, shaking his head as he expertly removed the stitches. It was an oddly affectionate sound, bruising the inside of Duo's chest. Trowa continued in silence, the corners of his mouth quirked up. He restitched the wound with quick, efficient hands.
"Try not to rip these," he instructed. Duo stuck his tongue out at him, then sat up. Slowly. It hurt. Not too bad-nothing he couldn't handle. But the pain and his lack of sleep made him petulant. He wanted to crawl in to bed, even though it would be empty. Trowaless.
"Ass," he spat, without venom. Trowa's lips quirked, and then he laughed, shaking his head. The sound soothed Duo like a good night's sleep, and he relaxed. Tension seeping from his shoulders, he stood. Trowa was close. So close. Duo wanted to bridge the gap. To lean in and take Trowa's lips with his own, slide his fingers in to Trowa's hair. He swallowed.
"Thanks, man. I appreciate it," Duo was going to bed. The shower he needed could wait. Right now, he needed space between him and the hot, hard line of Trowa's chest. Ducking his head, he made his way to the door.
"You should shower," Trowa stood in the doorway, eyeing Duo's bared skin. His arm blocked the way, gaze intent and just a little too warm. Too friend. Duo stared.
"I'm too tired."
"Would you like some help?" Duo's head shot up. Trowa had stepped closer, green eyes tracing the line of Duo's jaw, the curve of his shoulder. Furrowing his brows, Duo took a step back.
"Tro-?"
"I'd really like to help you, Duo," Trowa stepped forward again, voice low and husky. With wide violet eyes, Duo watched as Trowa prowled towards him. Trowa wanted to shower. With him. He took a step back and ran in to the glass door of the shower, fingers sliding useless over the surface. Trowa wanted to shower with him. In the same shower. Together. Naked.
"You-but you don't-" You don't like me! Duo finished in his head. Trowa didn't like him. They didn't talk anymore. Didn't get lunch together. It didn't matter that it was Duo's fault, that Duo'd been pushing him away for weeks.
"I do," Trowa's chest was suddenly against Duo's. Duo bit his lip. Soft, calloused fingers cradled his jaw as Trowa bent, brushing their lips together. It was soft and brief, Duo's breath hitching.
"But you-"
"Duo," Trowa growled, nibbling his lower lip.
"Yeah?"
"Shut up," he covered Duo's mouth with his own, sliding his hand back into his hair. Duo went taut, hands flat against the glass door, watching as Trowa kissed him. Trowa kissed him. Trowa kissed him. Trowa's tongue brushed the seam of his lips and suddenly Duo was moving, hands clutching Trowa's arms, eyes falling shut. He parted his lips, licking against Trowa's tongue, knees shaking at the soft, breathy moan it drew.
"Shower," Trowa instructed, pulling back and tugging Duo off the door. Duo watched dumbfounded as Trowa gracefully slipped off the loose knit pants, then stepped in to the stall. He had the water on in minutes, steaming the glass and filling the room with heat. Duo swallowed, watching Trowa stalk naked towards him.
Trowa's hands were on his pants, undoing the button and tugging down the zipper. Throat dry, Duo let him push the pants down past his hips. He stepped out of then and against Trowa, cock achingly hard. Trowa's eyes were a hungry, endless green, his hands sliding down Duo's sides, then in to his hair.
"But you-you didn't kiss back," Duo broke the silence, Trowa's fingers stilled in his braid, strands half unbound.
"You surprised me," it was soft, matter of fact, hands resuming their work. Duo's hair fell thick and heavy around him, a dark wave. He looked solemnly up at Trowa, leaning in to the soft touch on his jaw. Trowa's thumb stroked his lower lip.
"You kissed me and ran, Duo. And you've been avoiding me for months," Trowa held his gaze. Held his gaze and his jaw and his furiously beating heart. "And I want you to stop."
After that there was no talking. Nothing but the sound of Duo moaning, the slick sound of bodies meeting in the hot steam of the shower. Duo had Trowa against the wall, nipples stiff against the tile, hips arched out to meet every thrust. He rolled his hips against the acrobat, hard and slow, mouth pressing messy, open-mouthed kisses to the sweaty skin of his shoulder.
Trowa shut his eyes, making soft, urgent noises as he rolled back against Duo, hand wrapped around his cock, stroking eagerly. They were littered with hickeys and scratch marks, Duo's hair a wild wet tangle down his back. And when they came Trowa could see only the sharp white of release, Duo's name tumbling from his lips like water.
"Trowa," Duo's first word in half an hour was his name. His name, Trowa thought, hips bucking as the warmth filling him. Duo's warmth, his release. He slumped against the tile and Duo slumped against his back, nuzzling the nape of his neck. Reaching back, he took Duo's hand in his own, drawing his arm around his waist.
"I'm here," he panted, eyes drifting shut. Duo smiled against his neck, and Trowa squeezed his hand, the sound of the shower filling his ears, drowning out his doubts.