Title: New Years Resolutions
Author: ELLE
Pairings/Warnings: 1x2, explicit sexual content, angst, a wee bit of sap, the usual
Notes: This fic has been sitting around collecting dust since September 2013 so I edited it a little, finished it up, and gave it a fitting title. My New Year's resolution is to finish up some of the fics I wholesale abandoned in "the great depression" of last year. So for what it's worth, this fandom can expect a little more attention from me in the coming months.
Duo felt that warm, wet tongue trail up the edge of his ear and he shivered, braced himself on the wall, relished in the teeth moving down his neck. Heero's hands were on his belt buckle, loosening it, unbuttoning his pants and reaching in to run his hand tight against his dick for a minute, causing him to hiss, wanting more, but Heero's hand left quickly. His pants were yanked down to his thighs and he felt Heero's fingers in his ass, feeling him out, thrusting in and out and Duo panted quickly, trying not to make all the sounds he fucking wanted to make.
It was always like this between them when Duo was on Earth. The time away turned Heero into something fierce and when their eyes met across the dance floor he knew exactly what was going to happen.
"Don't be gentle," Duo growled under his breath, impatient to feel Heero inside him, knowing he wasn't going to be able to keep quiet much longer and really, they were nice bathrooms with doors that went all the way to the floor but it wouldn't take a genius to figure out within thirty seconds what was happening in the last stall on the left.
Heero didn't have to be told twice and his fingers slipped from Duo's body and instead helped him position himself. But Heero was still being too gentle. Duo looked back over his shoulder at the only consistent fuck he'd had over the past five years and bared his teeth.
"Do it." It was a command that Heero was never hesitant to follow and the reason he repeatedly fell into this pattern. No one fucked him the way Heero did – hard and fast, anywhere they were together, any time they had five minutes. Not that that was often, with Duo dragging in salvage to L2 and Heero stationed on Earth at Preventer, but a few times a year it inevitably happened. And New Years was a guarantee. The only present he gave a shit about.
Heero thrust in all at once and Duo pressed his forehead against the wall and groaned, the pain of it quickly replaced by comfort and a tight feeling in his gut. Heero was shushing him, chin on his shoulder, warm breath in his ear, fingers curling tight into his hips as he rolled his own hips up into him with hard, deliberate thrusts.
Duo reached down to touch himself but Heero grabbed his wrist and pinned it back against the wall, closing the distance between them, his whole torso pressed up against Duo's back.
"Don't," he said, fingers sticky and gripping so tight they could bruise. Duo whined back, wanting the friction. But instead he bucked back against Heero's hips, trying to get him to hit his prostate, make him cum without friction, but Heero wouldn't have it. Heero gripped his hips hard and forced them to still, the smack of flesh between them filling the closeted space and it made Duo whimper as he considered that people could hear just how fast Heero was fucking him. His hands curled on the wall, nails biting flesh, trying not to reach down again but he was so hard it hurt and he wanted to come, feel orgasm wash over him, feel his muscles clench around Heero's dick and feel how that brought him off.
But he heard the tale-tell gasp, the breathy moan of Heero finding his release deep inside his body as his hips jerked through a few shallow thrusts and he pulled out, slipping off latex before falling to his knees on the floor. He didn't make Duo wait long as he turned him around, pressing him back against the wall, wrapping one hand around his base as he took his head in his mouth, tongue caressing and teasing it. Duo muffled a cry with his hand as fingers slipped back inside of him, seeking out and stroking his prostate. He was damn embarrassed of the way his knees shook and turned to nothing as he felt the pressure build. And he slipped weakly down the wall, knees connecting with Heero's shoulders and Heero pressed back, wedging him up, keeping him from falling all the way to the floor.
Duo didn't even try to stop the low, wanton noise he made as he came, the most intense orgasm he'd experienced since four months ago in Heero's stupid temporary office on L2, nothing more than a desk as he was there less than two hours, but it was enough time. Duo made sure he was there – and that the desk was well and truly defiled by the time he left.
When he managed to get his strength back and open his eyes he straightened himself out against the wall, stared down at Heero, who was staring back up at him, and tangled his hands in his thick hair as he yanked him up into a long put-off kiss.
The base taste of cum and a hint of whiskey permeated Heero's mouth and he kissed hard for a minute before Heero pulled away as the sound of running water could be heard. Duo laughed, considering he was sure whoever was there must've heard his orgasm, but Heero looked less than thrilled about the possibility.
"It's always this way with you," Heero muttered as he did up his pants and Duo stared, grunted a laugh.
"You sure as fuck don't say no," he shot back as he tucked his shirt into his own pants, wishing they could avoid this mounting arrangement for once. It was New Years, after all.
Heero looked at him then, really looked at him, and he straightened Duo's tie for him. Duo's hands slowed on his belt buckle, uncertain as Heero leaned forward and kissed him again. But it was gentle and sweet and so not Heero. Not the Heero he knew. Duo drew away and drug the back of his knuckles over his chin.
"Of course I don't say no," he said under his breath, angry, like an afterthought as he exited the stall. Duo stared again and slammed the door open after him, following him to the sink where he washed his hands.
"Damn straight you don't," Duo said, leaning back against the sink to face him with his arms crossed over his chest. But Heero didn't acknowledge him, watched his own hands as the soap slid off of them and slipped down the drain. Heero clearly wasn't letting him get away with his defensive bullshit this time.
"Is this how it's going to be, then?" Heero asked, frustration evident in his voice as he turned off the faucet, still avoiding eye contact as he let his hands drip over the sink. "We're just going to keep doing this forever?"
He glanced over at him then but Duo laughed and looked away. What did Heero want? They were twenty, lived far as fuck away from each other, and anyway, Heero wasn't a romantic. Maybe once Duo had wanted something more, yeah, and maybe once this was over and Heero was gone and he was back in space, he'd get that uncomfortable feeling in his chest and he'd miss him and, yeah, maybe it was becoming harder and harder to deny that but it didn't matter. Duo didn't do permanence, had been burned too many times by caring too much, and this was as close as it was going to get. It was for Heero's own good, anyway.
"Look buddy, you can walk away any time you'd like," Duo rebuffed, squaring his shoulders defensively as their eyes met. For a minute he thought he saw something deep in Heero's eyes, something like longing – or maybe it was regret because he did turn then, turned without another word and walked away just like Duo had suggested.
A frown deepened on his face, fingers digging into his biceps as he watched Heero walk out the door so easily. Anger unfurled in his gut, washing him in frustration and rage and he started to follow but then stopped, irritated by how pathetic he was acting. He was the one who said it, he offered – you can walk away any time you'd like – and instead the back of his fist connected with the wall, heedless of whether it was sheetrock or not but vaguely thankful for his wallet that it was marble – though he knew his hand would ache for a few days. The pain and the look he got from a politician walking in tempered his anger, if only a bit, and he managed to pull himself together enough and walk out without looking like he might actually be a terrorist.
The thought did nothing for his shitty mood as some days being a terrorist felt better than this. Easier than trying to navigate a sea of domestic issues. Certainly calculating explosives was easier than figuring out why he felt like such shit when his eyes instinctively sought out and caught sight of the back of Heero's head across the room, already caught up in a conversation with a group of geezers as if nothing had occurred between then minutes ago. As if the taste of his cum wasn't still lingering on his tongue.
Fuck. Duo sought out the nearest bar and was considering an exit strategy when he got stopped by the hostess herself – Miss Relena Peacecraft.
"Duo," she enthused with a bit too much sweetness for his taste though he held out his hand and kissed the back of her's anyway. After all, he needed her backing for permits. Not that he had a problem with her, not as such, but they were polar opposites and truthfully, if he were more honest than he really felt like being right then, he never actually felt like he was worthy of being in her presence. "I know Heero is so glad you came."
For his part, Duo nearly choked on the unintentional double entendre and shook his head rapidly to cover for it – though it wasn't necessarily dishonest either.
"Not so sure about that, Princess," he replied, the words coming out a bit more bitter than he'd intended.
Relena huffed, fingers landing on the rose-colored cameo necklace she wore, resting just above a deep green velvet neckline that was surprisingly flattering on her fair skin.
"I'm not a princess anymore, I'm a politician, as you well know," she corrected, eking out a genuine though muted grin for her irritation over the nickname Duo good-naturedly refused to give up. "And by this point if you don't realize how highly Heero thinks of you then you have more issues than a frequent and unfortunate lapse of memory regarding my position in the ESUN."
But Duo's brain was still caught somewhere on Heero thinks of you and he stared back in confusion, knowing Heero didn't think of him in any context outside of a conveniently closed door and a condom wrapper. Not that that was all his fault, Duo hadn't exactly ever encouraged the chance for something more than that, but then Heero never argued – and he had to be damn aware of the limitations of a relationship like theirs anyway.
"You got him to come to the Capitol building after all," Relena continued in the face of his obvious disbelief, smoothing her hands on her dress distractedly. "And you know how he hates politics – I had been trying to get him just to come to lunch with me for two years yet never would he deign. But when your company submits a government bid suddenly he's taking off work and rushing up the steps to present it for you."
The irritated and somewhat offhand way she said it like it happened every day made Duo gape as he knew it had to be genuine. But the thought was so ludicrous to him – how did Heero even know he submitted government bids? Did he bribe a fucking secretary? Duo vividly remembered his first few off-hands submissions, knowing they weren't well written and that his company was far from the cheapest, but then Hilde had been pestering the shit out of him about it and it was worth slapping something together to shut her up. When the fifth one came back accepted, Duo remembered staring at the email with a confirmation time for an in-depth tele-interview to set up the contract in shock and a little bit of terror. He was going to convince Hilde it wasn't worth the time any more with this rejection – but obviously those plans immediately fell apart and ever since they won nearly every government big they submitted.
"Come on now Duo, don't look so disgruntled," Relena admonished, drawing him back into the party as she folded her arms across her chest. "You must send them to him – did you think he would just not show up?"
"I never knew," Duo mumbled out weakly in some kind of defense as his eyes searched for the other man and Relena laughed.
"Oh Hilde – she's tenacious! Submitting bids to your friends in Sanc without telling you," Relena mused in admiration but Duo knew that wasn't it at all. Hilde never touched the bids. Duo wrote and submitted them and Heero went out of his way to help him secure them without a single word to him about it. He felt strangely violated and uncomfortable. Why would Heero do something like that? It was an absolute waste of his time. Sure the government bids had secured the success of his business, but Heero benefited nothing from his success or failure.
Duo's eyes finally found him sipping whiskey with Zeches or Milliardo or whoever the hell he was now, and the fully pregnant Noin, and he stared, eyes narrowing suspiciously. What end goal could Heero possibly have in mind? It defied any strategy Duo's mind could fathom up.
"Well anyway I know it's not Hilde he does it for." Relena winked in a conspiratorial way and Duo managed a weak smile in return, hoping it looked somewhat natural though he was sure that wasn't the case. "So I know he's glad you showed. It's rare for us all to be together like this." She smiled and with that she was lifting her skirt just slightly, moving away to greet some other dignitary and Duo was left to stare after her, realizing he hadn't even properly expressed his gratitude to the hostess for her hospitality or done much of anything really other than blank out in surprise.
Carefully avoiding Heero's line of sight he made his way to the bar on the far end of the ballroom, deep in thought and frustration. His affairs were really none of Heero's business anyway, they were just fuck buddies, it wasn't like they were boyfriends or partners or – whatever the fuck. And worse he realized as he ordered a rum and coke – did Duo owe him something now? Was this some kind of perverse thank you for the years of fucking? He sure as shit didn't screw around with Heero to be "thanked." He thought they had an understanding, a mutual satisfaction in their so-called relationship but now it seemed like everything he'd thought was wrong and now he didn't know what to think.
Thankfully he caught sight of Wufei and Trowa and considered wheedling some information out of them since they all worked together. And best of all, they were already looking in Heero's direction, gesturing in an implicit manner. It would be awkward – they had mostly lost touch since he left for L2, only really seeing each other briefly during the holidays – but Duo was a man on a mission now, and no amount of awkward was going to deter him from figuring out what the fuck was up with Heero.
"It'd be a shame to lose him," Wufei had said on Duo's approach and Trowa was humming an affirmative as he sipped whiskey and this instantly piqued his curiosity.
"Who you government fat cats losin' this time – Heero?" he asked, clapping a friendly hand on Trowa's back though they both looked a bit like cats caught with canary feathers in their mouths.
"Maxwell," Wufei said instead in a smooth voice, obviously trying to distract him. "How have you been? Haven't seen you since last Christmas, if I'm not mistaken."
"No, no," Duo replied, letting himself be distracted and letting his hands fall instead to his pocket in a gesture of false innocence. "Been real busy with the business an' all – you know how it is. Especially since 'Ro's been helping with my bids."
Duo was smart. He knew Trowa was the most impassive fuck you'd ever meet and that not a single tell would ever float across his face – lost in poker enough times to him in his disastrous six months on earth right after Mariemaia. But he also knew Wufei was the exact opposite and couldn't keep his feelings off his face and so he watched carefully as surprise fluttered across his features for just an instant and Duo knew he had him then.
"Really?" Wufei said, trying to keep his voice as impassive as Trowa's face and failing. "I didn't know."
"Yeah." The skepticism had to be obvious in his voice because he knew Wufei was lying, Trowa's little smirk confirming as much even though his eyes were still pinned to the crowd. "Neither did I until recently."
"Heero does what he wants," Trowa murmured as if more to himself than to either of them and it made Duo feel even more uneasy, like Trowa knew something more that he didn't know.
And then, suddenly, the comment about losing him seemed to have too many implications. He worked at Preventer. They never talked about work – they never really talked – but he knew Heero was still in the field, knew he took on dangerous missions and maybe his help with the government bids really was a "thank you," but of a different sort. Maybe Heero knew something about his next assignment, knew it was going to be dangerous and knew there was a chance he might not come back. After all, Trowa was right, if Heero wanted to get lost, he could, and no one would be able to do anything about it and then –
Then his eyes were seeking Heero back out in the crowd, heart hammering in his chest, a certain feeling of fear he didn't expect washing over him. What if this was it? What if this was the last time they were ever going to see each other and Heero knew it but wasn't going to fucking say anything?
"But you can't lose him," Duo said suddenly, watching as Heero shook hands with an older man standing next to Une, wishing for one moment that he might turn around and look at him and give him that little smirk, a smile reserved especially for him that said everything is going to be okay. "You're Preventer."
Wufei snorted and clinked the ice in his glass. "It's really not up to us."
Duo tightened his fist on his glass and tried to contain his frustration. He knew Wufei was some kind of ranking official now, it was his job to keep Heero safe.
"Yes it is," he argued, the words coming out a bit more intensely than he'd intended and Trowa chuckled.
"Heero's a big boy," he said, green eyes sliding to Duo, clearly amused. "If he wants to transfer to L2, then no one's going to stop him."
Duo swallowed and stared, confused. What was Trowa talking about? Transfer? L2?
"Huh?" he mumbled out as inarticulately as possible, looking between the two of them, Trowa with his stupid grin and Wufei rolling his eyes.
"There's a data analysis position open in the L2 office and Heero had mentioned a vague interest in it," Wufei explained impatiently, clearly wishing he wasn't divulging this at all. "It would be a waste of his talents though and it would be a shame to lose him."
Duo didn't even know what to think then. Heero? What? Why would he even consider moving all the fucking way out to L2? And why wouldn't Heero tell him something like that? It would change their whole relationship if Heero moved out there. The L2 Preventer office was only an hour from his scrap yard's HQ – both relying on the main port of V-08746 – and that meant Heero would...
He watched his hand as it shook on his glass, listening to Trowa chuckling and feeling sick to his stomach. How did they know this? How did they know Heero contemplated moving out there to practically fucking live with him and he was being blindsided now? Why wouldn't Heero talk to him about this? Surely he knew it was insanity, that nothing could come of their relationship, that they could never share a life together. That had to be it. It had to be some kind of fucked up wishful thinking and Heero realized it was bullshit and that he could never do that. That he just simply wasn't worth it.
"Excuse me," he muttered out, not waiting for a reply before he started walking, desperate to get away from the two of them and their knowing looks, Wufei's exasperation and Trowa's amusement. They knew it too – surely they did. They knew just as well as he did that he was shit and he couldn't offer Heero anything but a warm body and a few hard fucks. What did he know about love or relationships? He couldn't even remember his parents. Closest thing to a mother and father he had he ended up killing even as he'd been trying to save them. And his brother – ha. The only thing he could've considered a brother also died in his arms. He couldn't offer Heero a future. Everyone he loved too dearly ended up dead.
Duo pulled an empty table about a foot over to be closer to the makeshift bar area, not even giving a shit what that looked like, women's purses and jackets discarded on chairs and he pushed them in to make it look like the table had been sitting at it's altered location the whole time. But it was pretty suspicious anyway, and the bartender looked at him with one raised brow as he leaned back in the seat closest to the bar and handed his now empty glass back over his shoulder, ordering another rum and coke, but heavy on the rum.
He was about three glasses in, and not as far as he'd like to be – suspicious that the bartender had altered his request and had gone a bit heavier on the coke – when the only person he may have wanted to see less than Heero wandered up and sat down next to him, champagne sparkling in his glass. At least Heero wouldn't have insisted on 'talking.'
"Duo," the warm, deep, and still surprising baritone greeted him and Duo glanced up half-heartedly at his blond former compatriot. Quatre smiled down at him, still surprisingly fair despite how he'd grown, before taking the seat next to him. "You aren't usually one to look so gloomy."
Duo sighed and quickly downed the rest of his drink, playing with the glass on the table afterward to avoid saying anything. Quatre could always see right through him anyway – it didn't help that he was being so obvious about it.
"Yeah, well, you know," he replied, spinning the glass until it almost fell but catching it at the last minute.
"No," Quatre replied earnestly. "No one knows. No one ever talks to you." The accusation wasn't unwarranted – nor was it unkind. Duo had managed to cordon himself off in his business, not wanting to be reminded of the things he didn't have – couldn't have, couldn't allow himself to have – the relationships his friends managed. He had Hilde, an adversarial co-worker he never let get too close, and his work, and that was all he could have. Quatre couldn't understand that. He had thought Heero did, but now...
Duo just cut a short laugh, clearly debating how he was going to get himself out of this situation but where Quatre was sitting made any escape route awkward, knowing Quatre would try to stop him. But what was there to say? He sure didn't feel like rehashing every raunchy encounter he'd had with Heero over the past five years that lead them to this point.
"There is a point where business can interfere with your life," Quatre started, missing the point entirely but that was easier than dealing with the truth so Duo let him go. "Trust me, I know. It can be easy to get drawn in trying to build your business, but you need friends, too."
Duo snorted at that and slid his chair back from the table, ready to leave regardless of how awkward or whatever Quatre's protests. But Quatre grabbed his forearm, keeping him in place and surprisingly strong for a man in an expensive, custom-tailored suit – but then Duo supposed he shouldn't have doubted that Quatre had maintained a workout regimen.
"Duo," he said, low, almost a threat and Duo rolled his eyes petulantly, sighed, and jerked his arm in Quatre's grip. Quatre released it, grudgingly, after Duo gave him a visual promise that he wouldn't leave.
"I just don't fucking know," Duo finally managed and Quatre seemed satisfied by that attempt, relaxing in his seat a little.
"About Heero?" Quatre asked and Duo frowned, angry that Quatre knew that. "Everyone knows." The statement only served to irritate Duo even further.
"Yeah, got that impression," he spat, feeling trapped by the table, not knowing what to do with his hands, thinking of Trowa's stupid little grin and the way Wufei just seemed to know damn near everything.
"Ah. They told you." There was no need to state who and Duo's lack of response confirmed it.
"I don't fucking get it – why wouldn't he just ask me?" He couldn't keep the hurt from his voice, not with Quatre, which was precisely why he hadn't wanted to talk to him in the first place.
"Maybe he knew what you'd say," Quatre replied with a shrug but Duo just scowled, fidgeting with his glass. That would be so like Heero. Just like he assumed Duo would want his help with the government bids, just like he assumed Duo didn't want something more. Sure, he might have wanted it, but it didn't fucking matter. He couldn't have it.
"Not why," Duo muttered, frustrated, having thought that Heero got it. It wasn't like Heero's life was chock-fucking-full of happy memories. What did he really think? That they could get a little condo on L2 together, a king sized bed, stainless appliances and matching dinnerware and everything would be peachy? It was ridiculous. He couldn't even imagine it. Heero going to his nine to five, Duo returning sore and greasy, showering while Heero cooked dinner, sitting down together and discussing their day over pasta and wine before curling into bed together?
Fuck. So maybe he had imagined it once or twice because it sure as hell seemed like it'd beat going back to an empty apartment – or just sleeping in the office – but it wasn't like he didn't acknowledge how ridiculous it was. Besides, Heero would be giving up a field position, sacrificing his career. How long could Heero really last as a desk jockey?
"Does the why matter if your mind can't be changed?" Quatre questioned patiently and Duo's fingers gripped the glass so hard his knuckles turned white.
"He doesn't get a free pass to make assumptions!" The words came out louder than he intended and Quatre blinked, obviously surprised by the outburst despite egging him into it. But his anger was short lived and he loosened his grip, staring into the glass morosely, watching the ice melt. "Maybe the why could change my mind."
"Would it? Would it really?" Quatre asked, blue eyes piercing. "Because you are one stubborn son of a bitch."
Duo chuckled then at Quatre's language, looking up to see a small smile on his friend's face. "Maybe not."
"But it is hurting him," Quatre went on, sadness in his tone that made Duo look down at the table cloth once more. It wasn't fair. Where was his blond billionaire with puppy dog eyes defense? Why was Heero more deserving of sympathy? Why couldn't he be hurting too?
"And I'm sure it's hurting you," Quatre continued as though he had read his mind. Once again Duo's silence was confirmation of the truth of it. Yeah he was hurting – but what could he really do about it? He wouldn't endanger Heero for his own selfishness. And he was bad fucking luck if ever there was any. Surely Heero could understand that. Surely Heero could figure out why they couldn't have a normal life.
"But what if I hurt him?" Duo finally whispered, fear and the need for emotional support overriding common sense. Once more Quatre's hand was on his forearm, but now it was light and reassuring.
"You already are hurting him," Quatre pointed out, the words soft and carrying no condemnation. He was right, to a degree, emotionally, sure he was, but Duo knew...
"At least he's not dead." The words left his mouth quicker than he'd been able to stop them but it wasn't something he typically shared, knew it was somewhat irrational, but it was impossible for him not to feel that way. His chest hurt when he thought about it – Heero wheezing his last few breaths like Solo, bleeding out in his arms like Sister Helen, nothing more than a cold corpse he'd have to go claim at some point. He was the god of death – it wasn't a title he'd taken on lightly. It was the truth.
"Duo." Quatre's hand squeezed momentarily, trying to offer him some sympathy Duo guessed, but he couldn't feel it. "Heero's a big boy. He survived the war, too. He can take care of himself, you know?" Duo frowned, unconvinced. "Besides, he'd be taking a less dangerous job on L2."
Duo supposed that was true, anyway. But still – Heero's apartment could be broken into, he could be recognized and shot on the street, he could –
"Duo." Quatre interrupted his thoughts, voice firm. "Don't you think he has the right to decide what risk is acceptable to him?"
Maybe that were true, but Duo just grunted and rolled his eyes to the side. "I know I'm not an acceptable risk."
Now Quatre was laughing at him and he removed his hand from his arm. Duo scowled as he looked back over at his friend. This was really insufferable. He knew why Trowa and Quatre still got on so well now, despite seeming such opposites – they could both laugh in the face of your pain.
He was just about to tell him as much but Quatre was tilting his head to the side, trying to draw Duo's attention that way.
"I'm sure not everyone would agree."
His words were cryptic enough that Duo looked over his shoulder in the direction Quatre had indicated, realizing that he had been the subject of Heero's intense stare from all the way across the room. He wondered how long he'd been staring like that. It made him somewhat uncomfortable but then their eyes met in acknowledgement and it was like earlier, like fire and heat and desire – but it wasn't lust. It was longing. He knew it now, the way his ribcage felt too tight, the way his lungs burned, the way he knew exactly how those stormy blue eyes looked despite being fifty feet away and he could still fucking feel them.
But it was only a moment before Heero was turning away and walking out the door. Something in Duo's heart caught then and he looked back at Quatre, imploring, telling him what to do because he didn't know. The only thing he knew then was that he didn't want to lose Heero. And while he knew they didn't have much, Heero was all he had. Yet he didn't want to hurt him. He didn't want to hurt him by being with him and he didn't want to hurt him by not being with him. He didn't know what he was supposed to do.
"You should go," Quatre offered, sliding his chair to the side to facilitate Duo's exit.
"But what do I say?" Duo asked, feeling stupid but also feeling desperate and needing advice.
"I don't think Duo Maxwell ever needed help deciding what he ought to say," Quatre teased but his smile was comforting, his eyes sympathetic. "Just try to let him decide what he wants. Okay?"
Duo was nodding absently as he stood and hurried through politicians and women in oversized gowns, slipping between them and excusing himself as he made his way at an excruciatingly slow pace to the door. He didn't bother with coat check, desperate to meet Heero before he reached the valet, and Duo practically ran down the red carpet stairs, across the marbled grand entranceway hung with blue and gold decoration he barely noticed, heedless of the stares he got from the few loitering guests.
He burst through the doorway into the cold night air, snow swirling around him, breath puffing out in big foggy clouds as he scanned the area, hopeful that Heero was still there. And thankfully he was, just far off across the brickwork entranceway, past the fountain in the center, nearly to the lawn on the other side. Heero was staring up at the sky, in the direction of the nearly full moon, huge and round and luminescent, the specks of L1 distorting the view and Duo wondered in a moment of selfish fantasy if it wasn't L1 he was truly looking towards, having no love of his home colony, but L2, hidden from sight behind the moon.
As he approached, slow and careful, he remembered staring at the moon while he was on earth, those little pieces of L1 barely visible against the bright side of the moon, thinking of Heero during the war. He wondered now if Heero had ever done the same. It was only wishful thinking, Heero was so focused, so dedicated, and he...
Heero turned then, obviously having heard his approach, and Duo paused for a moment, watching the way big, fat flakes of snow fell and clung in his hair, dusting his shoulders in white, and he looked ethereal like that, pale skin glowing in the moonlight. Duo moved forward more slowly, a shiver coursing down his spine from the cold but he barely felt it on his skin.
"I'm leaving," Heero announced, loud, as if defending himself from Duo with the words and Duo stopped once more, close, so close he could touch him – but he shoved his hands in his pockets. Despite the threat, Heero didn't move either, just stared back at him.
"Don't," Duo asked, much more quietly, but the request was sincere. He stepped forward one more step, unsure what to say despite Quatre's faith that he would come up with something. He just stared at Heero, the determined set of his face, the blank expression in his eyes, and he sighed.
"You should take the job on L2 if it would make you happy."
Though he was fairly sure that was what Quatre would have wanted him to say, Heero's face became downright angry then, brows furrowing, lips thin but he didn't say anything. Yet his silence was deafening, had bothered Duo since they were fifteen, wanted him just to say what the fuck was on his mind because Duo couldn't do shit with silence. Fuck Quatre – he'd have to do this his way.
"You should have just told me if you didn't want me to find out some other way," Duo argued, trying to rile him up enough that he would say something but he just rolled his eyes and glared to the side, jaw working in frustration, equally as stubborn as Duo himself.
"I don't fucking understand," Duo continued, removing his hands from his pockets to shove Heero's chest roughly. "I never asked for your help. I never asked for anything from you!"
"Right – so how am I supposed to show you that I care?" Heero lashed out, turning back to face him again, eyes hurt and angry. Duo felt stunned, shock making his jaw slack and he stared at Heero like he'd never seen him before. He may have assumed Heero cared, to some extent anyway, but to hear him say it like that...
"Sorry," Heero apologized, anger dissipating instantly so that instead he just looked totally defeated. "I understand that you don't want me. It's okay. I never intended to take that job. It was just something to think about."
Here was Heero, articulating his feelings, and Duo felt inadequate, unable to speak. He swallowed a lump in his throat and reached out to stroke Heero's cool cheek with his fingers, but Heero flinched away instinctively and that hurt. Because Heero was wrong, it wasn't the way he thought it was, it was just...
He dropped his hand dejectedly, realizing in that moment that his fear of losing Heero right now was far worse than his fear of loving him too much.
"I do – I," he struggled, the words sticking in his throat. "I care."
Heero grunted, casting his eyes downward and Duo knew he never wanted to see Heero look like that, not because of him, not because he couldn't believe him.
"I do, really, I just... I just can't make any kind of commitment." It sounded terrible and he knew it, staring down at the snow frosting his shoes in embarrassment. "I know that's shit but... but I'm scared." The words were barely a whisper – he wasn't even sure Heero could hear him at all – and his fingers twisted in his pockets nervously. "I don't want to fuck you up like I fucked up everybody else."
He heard Heero move, his coat rustling but Duo didn't look up, afraid to see him walking away. But instead of walking away he felt Heero's gloved hands on his arms, encouraging his hands out of his pockets and Duo complied, glancing back up to see Heero's coat undone before Heero pulled him close. Duo wrapped his arms around his body, warm and solid under his coat and he couldn't help but smile a little as he tucked his face up against his neck.
Despite himself, Duo felt at ease in Heero's arms, knowing that he wasn't being rejected – yet. But that was the problem, wasn't it? That false sense of security Heero gave him. Eventually it would all come crashing down just like it alway did, just like it always would.
"I'm – scared," Heero ground out, the words halting and awkward and obviously difficult for him. Duo could feel the tension in his chest, the way his heart thudded against his cheek. "But – if I don't try to change now..."
Duo scowled as the words died on Heero's lips. Fuck. Why couldn't this be easy? If only the will to change was all it took.
But then Heero had changed. He was so different from the reclusive boy at fifteen, from the reckless mess of self-destruction they all were at seventeen, from the troubled teen he'd left behind for L2 years ago. Now he was becoming a man who wanted something more. Their relationship was evolving and Duo wasn't sure if he could keep up, but then the thought of being left behind...
His throat felt thick and he swallowed hard as he pressed in a little closer. The idea of never seeing Heero again – it was so tangible and so terrible. Every time he walked away he knew that it would only be a matter of months before Heero was back. But he didn't have to be. And if he walked away right now, he wasn't sure how long Heero would come back to him if he refused to change too. And he couldn't really be mad about that, either. It wasn't fair to hold Heero back. He deserved better.
Duo could feel his eyes welling with unwanted tears and he hated it but the fact of the matter was – he didn't want Heero to leave. He wanted to be better. He wanted to be the lover that Heero deserved. He wanted to be free of irrational fear. He wanted to grow along with Heero and he wanted... Fuck it all – he wanted to change.
"If – I mean – I would like it – if you came," he whispered, so quite against Heero's chest that he didn't think Heero could even hear it but then maybe part of him didn't really want him too. It would be easier if he didn't.
Heero's arms compressed just a bit around his frame, letting Duo know that he had heard, but he didn't say anything just yet. He simply held him tightly as the snow began falling more heavily around them, no longer melting on his hair even.
The world didn't end with the admission that Duo wanted him. Heero didn't die. Nothing changed. Vaguely he picked up the beginnings of some holiday instrumental played by what sounded like a live string ensemble, distant and warped as it floated out from the party inside. It seemed like a world away.
He remembered last year, leaving with Heero for a shitty hotel room with a bottle of scotch he pilfered from the bartender tucked in his pocket and fucking all night long and this? It was so different, this quiet moment where he could hear how gentle Heero's breathing could be, and maybe... maybe it was better. Maybe he could accept that it was better.
"You know, I'd get my own apartment," Heero said quite suddenly and Duo laughed out loud, honest and genuine, and he leaned back a bit to meet Heero's eyes.
There were so many things he wanted to say then as his laughter eased into an earnest smile but he knew he couldn't make any of them come out of his mouth.
Instead he watched the open way Heero's eyes reflected his own and he quietly made a promise to himself to remember that moment, remember the way Heero looked at him like he would do fucking anything to make it work. Because he knew change wasn't going to be easy – already the little voice in his head that had kept him alive this long was nagging at him to run – but he also knew they both deserved for him to try.
So he made that his New Year's resolution – to try. He could never say it, could never make such a commitment out loud, not yet. But that was the point of trying, right? And instead of saying anything at all, he smiled, closed his eyes, and leaned forward to seal that promise with a kiss.