A/N: Wishing Kangofu-CB the happiest day of birth. I hope you enjoy this and thank you for letting me write you a thing!
A/N2: Title inspired by the HAIM song by the same name.
A/N3: Always, always thanks to Ro for beta reading and supporting me. You are, quite literally, the best. I also want to thank ChronicWhimsy, who graciously gave me another set of eyes and editing on this.
Warnings: angst, language, sex
Pairings: 2x3
Ready for You
Chapter 1
It was one of those spring days that made Trowa grateful for the lack of predictability in the Terran climate. The sky was azure along the horizon, peeking through the towering buildings that surrounded Trowa, but closer, overhead, the clouds that rolled along were gray and threatening.
Even after all of the time he had spent on Earth, rain was still a novelty, still something that he liked. Even if it caught him unawares.
Which, of course, was his own fault. He hadn't looked at the weather forecast for the day - he rarely did - and when he left his apartment that morning, he had pulled on a simple t-shirt and the jeans that were two holes too far gone to wear to work anymore.
It wasn't his first spring in New York City, however, and he had grabbed both his coat and his sunglasses as he left the apartment for the day.
He wished he had grabbed his raincoat instead of the woolen overcoat, however. He was grateful for the warmth, especially with the way the wind cut through the canyons of skyscrapers, but…
Trowa looked up again. The clouds were definitely starting to overpower the brilliant blue of the sky.
He wondered if the jazz trio that usually played in the park on Saturday mornings would be forced to find shelter and cancel their impromptu concert.
That would be disappointing, considering that they were the only reason Trowa had bothered to get up so early.
As he contemplated what to do, Trowa felt the first raindrop fall on his nose.
He ducked his head and wiped away the rain, and decided that perhaps it was better just to head home. He had a few projects to work on around the apartment. The windowsill that needed caulking and-
Someone bumped into Trowa.
"Sorry," Trowa said at the same time that the person, shorter by almost a full head, said the word as well.
Trowa stepped aside and let the person pass, catching part of the conversation they were having with a shaved-headed man.
"...pretentious fuck. Telling me that Eileen Ogg is fixated on pre-Colonial patriarchal systems when he is from fucking Wisconsin and couldn't offer an unbiased critique of a Post-Terran poet to save his dirt-eating life."
The shaved-headed man chuckled.
"Duo, did you get kicked out of class again?"
Duo.
Duo.
Trowa stopped in his tracks and turned around.
And caught sight of a ghost.
Trowa hadn't seen him in ten years, not since Duo had rejected Une's offer to work for the Preventers and Trowa had taken the offer, had then spent four years trying his damnedest to earn the chance to be free before Heero Yuy had given him a brutal and entirely necessary talk on how that was one of the worst ideas Trowa had ever had and Trowa had left Preventers.
His hair was loose around his shoulders, shorter than Trowa remembered it. He was still slight, the curve of his nose pale and the crook of his lips darkly amused, and he was still dressed almost entirely in black.
"Duo?"
The man stopped and turned, the cocky smirk on his face freezing and then faltering before it slid away entirely.
"Tro- Trowa? Or, shit… It is Trowa, right?"
Duo's eyes were vivid, ultramarine dancing in a sea of pale skin and violet shadows.
For a moment, Trowa wondered if Duo was unsure, wondered if Duo was confused about who he was, but the way Duo bit down on his lip and glanced towards the man at his side, the way he shifted his body, shoulders rolling and then slouching, made Trowa realize.
"Still Trowa."
Duo nodded, and his eyes raked over Trowa's body before rising to meet his gaze.
"Well fuck, Trowa."
Well fuck, indeed.
He couldn't tell what Duo was thinking, and he wasn't entirely sure what he was thinking, himself.
The shaved-headed man cleared his throat.
"Oh, right, yeah." Duo chuckled and ran one hand through his hair, pushing his unruly bangs away momentarily before they fluttered back in place. He gestured with one hand to the man. "Jehan, this is, uh, an old friend of mine, Trowa. Trowa, this is Jehan, my, uh, classmate."
Jehan gave Duo a look that suggested he was questioning his intelligence.
"Well, uh, it's nice to meet you, Trowa."
He held out his hand just as thunder rumbled overhead.
Trowa shook the proffered hand once and then let it go.
"Nice to meet you, too."
"Well, we should probably get going, Max," Jehan said to Duo, glancing up at the sky, "or we're going to get soaked."
Duo nodded absently, his eyes still on Trowa.
"Yeah, Je, you go ahead and I'll catch up with you."
Jehan arched an eyebrow and looked between them.
"If you're trying to get out of the study group so you can go hook up with your ex then-"
"I'm not-"
"We never dated."
Trowa and Duo stared at each other, each a little surprised by the other's vehemence.
"Okay…" Jehan drew the last syllable out and held up his hands to pacify them. "My mistake."
"Look, tell everyone I'll be there soon. I just need a few minutes."
Jehan shrugged.
"Sure, sure. I'll just sit there and listen to Avery talk shit about you."
Duo rolled his eyes and Jehan moved along, walking past them and looking over his shoulder in curiousity.
"So…" Duo shoved his hands into his pockets and danced to the side to avoid getting run over by a woman in a suit.
"So," Trowa repeated the word. He didn't really know what to say.
Duo snorted a laugh and shook his head.
"This is… really fucking weird. I didn't even know if you were alive."
The words were surprisingly harsh, but then Trowa considered them. Considered the fact that he hadn't known if Duo was alive. Or given much thought to him.
It started to rain - not a light drizzle, but an immediate downpour.
"Of fucking course," Duo muttered as they both moved to the relative shelter of the building beside them, the narrow concrete awning just barely keeping the rain away.
"There's a coffee shop down the block."
Trowa wasn't sure why he offered up that information, and he certainly didn't know what he wanted Duo's reaction to be.
"Do they have good coffee or…"
"Remember that stuff Howard had on Peacemillion?"
"That he said they grew on Mt. Kilimanjaro?"
Trowa nodded.
"They serve that at this place."
Duo's eyes widened.
"No shit?"
"No shit."
Duo chewed his lower lip and looked past Trowa at the rain.
"When you say it's down the block…"
"Three shops back - fifty, maybe sixty feet."
Duo's lips twitched, but then he shrugged.
"Yeah, okay. Lead the way. Maybe you'll block some of the rain."
It was clear that Trowa did very little to block any of the rain. When he held the door to the coffee shop open, Duo grimaced and actually wrung out his hair before stepping inside.
Their shoes squelched as they made their way across the shop to stand in line and place their orders.
"It's the Tanzanian Pearberry," Trowa offered as Duo stepped up to the front of the line.
Duo glanced over his shoulder and up at Trowa.
"Thanks."
Duo ordered a large cup of the coffee, hesitated, and ordered a scone as well.
Trowa followed and copied the order exactly.
They moved to the side to collect their coffees and scones, and then Trowa showed Duo where the creamer and sugar were kept.
He couldn't remember how Duo had taken his coffee all those years ago, but he wasn't surprised when Duo skipped the dairy creamers and used the powdered, almond creamer. Trowa dumped a liberal amount of dairy creamer into his own cup before indicating that Duo should lead them to a table.
Duo picked out a table in the corner, away from the customer traffic, situated closer to the back than the front of the shop, and Trowa took off his jacket and settled his chair against the wall gratefully.
They drank their coffee in silence, and Trowa was vividly reminded of one night on Peacemillion, late into the sleep cycle, when he and Duo had been the only ones in the mess hall. They had sat at separate tables then, each staring off into the darkness of space beyond the viewports, lost in their own heads. Duo had left first, passing by Trowa and hesitating before reaching out and squeezing his shoulder.
"'S a good look on you."
Duo's voice drew Trowa out of the memory, the phantom pressure of Duo's hand on his shoulder dissolving.
"What?"
Duo lifted two fingers and traced over the smooth skin around his own lips.
"Your beard thing. I mean, it doesn't matter what I think, but I'm just saying… it's a good look on you."
Trowa reflexively reached up to touch the stubble that he just hadn't cared to shave. He had started to let it grow out in February, had spent most of March telling himself he would shave the next morning, and now, in the middle of April, had finally decided to hell with it.
"Thanks."
Trowa took another sip of his coffee and struggled to come up with something to say. He had never been particularly comfortable or competent in social situations. That this was an unnervingly awkward social situation with a man he hadn't seen or even thought much about in a decade - a man who had known Trowa during some of the darkest and most painful parts of his life - was not inspiring Trowa to become a witty conversationalist.
"You cut your hair."
Duo, mid-sip, looked over at Trowa and then choked on his coffee.
"Ugh, gah, uh. Sorry." Duo coughed again, and then cleared his throat. "Yeah. Yeah, I did."
Trowa saw Duo's lips twitch, saw the gleam of humor in his eyes, and he flushed with the realization that Duo was amused at his expense.
He clenched his hand around the paper coffee cup and willed himself not to care.
"Wait, wait." Duo reached across the table, as if he was going to touch Trowa. He stopped himself, however, and dropped his hand to the table, fingers stretched out between them.
"I'm sorry. I wasn't laughing at you. I just… This is fucking weird, Trowa! Here we are, ten years later, and all we can think of talking about are beards and haircuts? Tell me that's not, like, a little funny?"
Put that way…
"We never really talked much, back then."
Duo nodded and took another sip of coffee.
"Yeah, plus you had that habit of punching me in the gut. So…"
"It was one time," Trowa grumbled, but he felt his lips tug upwards in reaction to Duo's own grin.
"Left a lasting impression," Duo insisted, and he leaned back in his chair to rub his flat belly.
Trowa rolled his eyes at the gesture and the look of remembered pain on Duo's face.
"That wasn't even the worst thing I did to you," he muttered, and instantly regretted it.
Duo's face froze, but then he shrugged and reached for his scone. Trowa watched the other man break a piece off and then thoughtfully chew it.
"What are you up to these days?" Duo asked after he swallowed.
"Work."
The one word answer had Duo lifting both eyebrows.
"Wow. That sounds intensely exciting." He frowned, and then let out a long, frustrated sigh. "Please don't tell me you're still… You cannot seriously still be working for Une?" Duo hissed the name as if it were a curse.
"No, of course not. I left six years ago."
"Good. Good."
Duo used his thumb to crush a few scone crumbles back into dough. He was scowling, and Trowa wondered at the emphatic disdain for Une and, presumably, the Preventers organization.
"You're a student?" Trowa tried to reciprocate Duo's attempt at conversation.
"Yeah. Graduate work at Columbia."
Trowa nodded.
Duo rolled his eyes.
"I study post-Terran lit, but I dabble in pre-colonial philosophy."
Duo looked at Trowa expectantly.
"That's…" Trowa really had no idea what to say. He had never pictured Duo Maxwell as the type to attend university lectures - or lectures of any kind. He didn't think that Duo would appreciate him saying that, however.
Duo made a gesture with his hand.
"This is where you tell me what kind of work you do… You know, treat it like a date or something. I tell you about me, you tell me about you…"
Trowa didn't date. At least, not intentionally. There had been a few setups that he hadn't been able to get out of, a few 'favors' for friends who needed to appease younger brothers or sisters. Those had, now that he thought about it, gone about as pleasantly as this was going.
"I'm a carpenter."
"Yeah? What do you build… Like houses or… buildings?"
"Finish carpentry - mostly furniture."
"Wow. That's…"
Trowa wasn't at all relieved to have made Duo as speechless as Duo made him.
Deciding that, all in all, this was a mistake and getting soaked while he walked back to his apartment wouldn't be more painful, Trowa tossed back the last of his coffee.
Duo watched as he wrapped up the scone and slipped it into a coat pocket, but made no move to stop him.
When Trowa stood up, however, Duo finally moved, reaching out before once again aborting the gesture.
"Look, Trowa, I'm sorry. It's just… seeing you, seeing you here - it's crazy. There's just… there's a lot of shit between us, or behind us, or something."
Trowa looked down at Duo's outstretched hand, at the fingers splayed wide. Duo had always been pale, his hands even more so. Trowa remembered watching Duo code something once, his fingers flying across the keyboard, so swift and white they had been mesmerizing.
His own fingers were so different, rough and tanned where he imagined Duo's were smooth and fair.
"What do you want from me?" Trowa finally asked. He didn't like asking the question, didn't like not already knowing the answer.
Duo sighed.
"I dunno. I guess… I guess I just wanted to know how you are? Know who you are?"
"I'm fine, and you already know me."
Duo snorted.
"Like hell I do. Look, why don't we just… Hell, I don't know, try to be friends or something? I mean, we live in the same city! On the same planet! What are the odds of that?"
"We were grounded after the wars. Une would never risk letting us go back to the colonies."
Duo rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, okay, but it's a big planet. I'm just saying… friends?"
"You don't already have friends?" The Duo he remembered was brash and belligerent, but he had been charming when he wanted to be. Trowa doubted he was lacking for friends.
"Well sure, but none of them are carpenters."
Trowa arched an eyebrow at Duo's smirk, at the uncertainty and sincerity of the expression.
"You want to do this again?" Trowa gestured at the table, at the complete lack of conversation they had just struggled through.
"Fuck no. The coffee was great, and I'm definitely coming back here again. But, I dunno, maybe we could see a movie or go to a concert or something? Just… hang out?"
Trowa thought of the jazz trio he watched in the park on Saturday mornings. He wondered what Duo would think of them. The idea intrigued him so much that he shrugged.
Duo's smirk grew.
"Yeah? Cool. Um… mind giving me your number?"
Duo pulled out his phone and looked up at Trowa.
It was, Trowa realized, a courtesy. If Duo really wanted to track him down, he could have done so easily, and Trowa could do the same. They might be civilians, or as close to civilians as they were ever likely to get, but Trowa was under no illusions as to what Duo Maxwell was still capable of.
He gave Duo his phone number, watching his fingers fly as he typed it in. He wondered if Duo missed piloting.
A jittery, cacophonous melody exploded from Trowa's back pocket.
With a scowl, he reached for the phone and made a mental note to change the ringtone back from whatever monstrosity Cathy had put on when she had last visited. It was a note he had made for himself weekly for the last three months.
He looked at the unfamiliar, local number on the screen.
"That's me," Duo said. "In case you want to get in touch."
Trowa nodded absently as he silenced the phone.
"Okay."
"Right. Well, I really do have to go to this study group. We've got exams coming up in a few weeks, and everyone's on edge…"
Duo stood up.
"It was really good to see you, Trowa."
He held out his hand and, after a moment of hesitation, Trowa met it with his own.
As he had suspected, Duo's hand was smooth, his fingers gracefully curving around the callused skin of Trowa's palm. He could feel the scrape of cuts and splinters move against Duo.
He thought back to that night on Peacemillion again. Duo had always had smooth skin.
"I'll give you a ring, okay?" Duo squeezed his hand before releasing it.
Trowa found himself nodding and stepping back.
At the door to the coffee shop, Duo paused and looked back.
He waved at Trowa, a jaunty salute that Trowa found himself cautiously returning.
-o-
TBC
