Two months, and he felt like a stranger in his own apartment. It had that faintly stale smell of an unoccupied space. The air conditioner whined as it turned back on, waking-up. Duo's fridge was just as bare as he had left it. The only thing he filled it with was the six pack he'd picked up on his way back from the airport. Drinking alone, had a certain hermit flare that was appealing to him. Especially after his first mission under the careful watch of his new boss-man.
What he should have done, was head straight back to the office to debrief with said boss-man, none other than Chang Wufei. Wufei had left him with implicit instructions to connect with him when his plane landed. He was keenly aware that Duo Maxwell followed instructions about as well as any L2 hood rat. Wufei, however, was rigorously disciplined, but he hadn't laid out the law to him yet. After ignoring his instructions, Duo was very aware that he'd been asked into Wufei's office and asked to sit down. He'd pinch his brow, in mock exasperation. Duo would slouch in the pretentious leather chair across from him with his legs disrespectfully wide. With a heavy sigh, Wufei would ask him "Why?", he would shrug and he'd get reprimanded or written up and asked to leave. The end.
They hadn't seen eachother since the war ended, and suddenly this basically stranger was the man he directly reported to. Noin and he had a distinct understanding. He did what he wanted, and didn't make her look bad. She had the absolute audacity to get promoted. It never got under Duo's skin that he would never be promoted to a a safer, desk position, because he was a liability. Plain and simple. Last year, he had spent three weeks in an inpatient psychiatric facility following Heero's death. He hadn't been his only lover, but he'd been his first. Even if Heero was a terrible roommate and an emotional cripple, he'd been a fucking amazing partner and he'd kept the bed warm. Now, sitting alone in their apartment, there was nothing to even remind him that Heero once lived here. His therapist had told him to move. It would be easier for wounds to heal if he took himself away from the triggers. It had really been the opposite. He couldn't handle any more change, and staying had been a grounding force.
It should have been a bullet.
That's what he had said when he sat next to Heero, IV's in his arm, cannula under his nose and his hideously bald head. Heero had chuckled. It was the last chuckle he ever heard. That bastard gave him power of attorney. He didn't even know about it until he'd been in a coma for two weeks and they had declared him brain dead.
Duo had pulled the plug twelve hours after they told him there was no hope. He had been in so much pain, and he was selfish. The last kind thing he could do, was hold Heero's hands while the respirator stopped pumping and the nurse had turned off all of the beeping equipment taking exact measurements of his vitals.
It wasn't the loneliness that got to him. It was the existential crisis he'd had. Without Heero he didn't know how to work at Preventers or how to function in the structure. They were supposed to be gods. Indestructible. Invincible. How was he supposed to navigate being human? How would he face twenty-seven years of damaged goods that he had under his belt? No one else would want him.
It didn't take ESP to know that it was Wufei calling him repeatedly. Finally, on the third series of rings he picked up. Cranky was an understatement.
"What?" He practically hissed into the speaker. Closing his eyes he collected the toiled feeling inside of his stomach.
"Maxwell, are you coming or am I coming to you?" The cool, calmness in Wufei's voice had him pausing his irritation.
"Are you giving me options?" Toying with him, there was almost a smirk on his face. Perhaps, Wufei was more grounded than he had been when they were still teenagers. They couldn't even legally have a drink then.
There was a chuckle in Duo's ear before he answered. "I'll come by your place. It sounds like you're home, yes?"
"Yeah, I'm home. I just got here. Kinda just went on autopilot. I'm seriously jet-lagged from flipping time zones."
"Will you send me your address then? I'll make this short and sweet and then you can sleep the day away."
When the downstair's gate buzzed in his apartment, he didn't even bother to ask who was there, he just let Wufei in. All of the abysmal hot water in his apartment had been used to wash his heavy mane of hair. Even if it wasn't near as long as when Heero had still been alive, it was still thick and hung just below his shoulders. At least he was decent enough to put on sweatpants and a t-shirt. The last thing he needed to do was blind the man with his nudity. Even though, if he was wildly inappropriate he might get out of this little meeting.
There wasn't time, for a better plan. Wufei creaked the front door open after knocking rhythmically.
"Come in." Finger combing his hair, Duo threw the wet towel into the wicker hamper before making his way back to the living room. "Hey." It was probably a little too informal to be addressing his boss that way, but they were on his turf after all.
"How you holding up?" There was a softness to Wufei's voice that he hadn't remembered, but Duo should have been used to it. Everyone, aside from Noin, had treated him like a pariah since Heero's death. He was untouchable now.
"Nothing a hot shower won't cure." Making his way to the kitchen, he tried not to observe the way Wufei looked back at him. They were clearly older. Wufei's hair was longer and pulled back into a messy bun. Not a look he would have ever imagined on the man. It was obvious he hadn't been at the office when he'd called, he was in black jeans and a wrinkled light denim shirt cuffed at the elbows. Tortoise shell glasses made him look scholarly, hiding the intense warrior stare he usually sported.
Was that a smile? Duo couldn't help, but smirk back. He grabbed two beers from the fridge and didn't even ask as he opened two. What the hell.
Wufei didn't say anything about it, he took the glass bottle and a sip as if they were about to have a poker night.
"It's good to see you again Duo."
Duo. Not Maxwell. It felt a little chummy. "When did you turn so soft?" Half of him expected a snide response, the other half physical blow.
"Since I got divorced." That had his ears turning up. Duo knew that he had been married Meilan, but it wasn't a partnership out of love. Instead of the scowl he had expected, Wufei was smiling warmly back at him taking another ginger sip. Duo merely nodded in return, not wanting to push, because frankly he didn't want to be pushed back.
"Let me send you my reports and interviews from Paris." Duo moved to get up, but Wufei stopped him with a single look. Dark eyes looked at him as he took off his glasses placing the arm between his teeth.
"What?"
Like Wufei didn't know what he was doing.
"Are you flirting with me?" Placing his hands on his hips, Duo felt flattered but also kind of sleezy. Coming over to his house, drinking his beer and smirking at him like he was just going to take off his clothes for him.
"I was thinking about it. Should I stop now, before I embarrass myself?"
Usually, he would have had something suggestive and gotten Wufei to man handle him into the bedroom. It was a problem, that his therapist had made abundantly clear was not good for his mental health. Something about sexual assault survivors either being abstinent or promiscuous and he was certainly the later. There was no denying that he used sex to handle most of the emotions that were raw, right on the edge of his nerve endings. Heero did nothing, but facilitate that. Fuck, he missed that about Heero. Missed that he made him feel alive and didn't mind the baggage and his difficult demeanor. Perhaps, promiscuous was a bit generous. Considering that fellow officers joked that he was part of the rookie initiation. He'd long foregone keeping track of the many lovers he'd fallen into bed with. Heero never got jealous, had even watched a few times. Their eyes had never dropped from each other's gaze. It was a self-destructive game. Under his therapist's guidance he'd been celibate for almost a year. A painful eight months, one week, six days and fifteen hours. He was practically licking his lips, which also made him feel like a sexaholic. Was it so wrong to just want to feel skin against skin? Mouth and teeth invading him? What it boiled down to was longing.
"Why don't you ask me out for dinner, like a classy man 'Fei?"
"Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?" There was no waver in his gaze, as Duo challenged him with his eyes. He still held his glasses away from him, as if he were letting his shield down.
"Is that an order boss?" He took a deep gulp before crossing his arms over his chest.
"If you promise not to send me to HR."
Well dinner it would be.
