Duo ate breakfast early, then made his way outside. He had missed the snow. Moving slowly towards the gazebo, he smiled. The cold air felt fresh on his face, snow drifting on to his hair. Relena was still bundled up in bed with her husband. Wufei would be in bed with Sally, probably sleeping. Quatre and Trowa would be-.
He stopped. Quatre and Trowa hadn't been together in four years. Heero had told him last night, on their drive home from the shuttle port. They'd talked about Wufei, too, Heero filling him in on five years worth of gossip. He didn't want his friends to be hurt by his ignorance. In the years he'd been gone, he hadn't wanted to know. Quatre would be in bed with his wife. Trowa would be alone.
Nose frozen, Duo climbed up the icy stairs of the gazebo, resting his elbows on the railing. He wanted to see his friends. Wanted to joke with Wufei about marrying Sally, with Quatre about the recent spike in the price of goggles. To call Relena "Princess" and tease her about Heero, about her swollen stomach. But after five years, he knew he couldn't' pick up where he'd left off.
They were all so different than they had been five years ago.
Trowa made his way silently towards the gazebo, hands stuffed in to the pockets of his jeans. He'd watched Duo come out here, the familiar figure moving through the snow with the grace of an assassin. He wasn't sure what to expect, slipping in to the gazebo and leaning against the railing. Pulling a blunt out of his pocket, he lit it.
The smell of pot brought a sharp sting to Duo's eyes. He hadn't smoked since he'd left.
"Hey," he kept his tone neutral. Trowa hadn't expected that, hadn't expected the coldness of his voice.
"Hey," he took a slow drag, eyes closed, remembering the feeling of Duo's mouth on his, smoke passing between their lungs. Violet eyes were watching him, gazing over a well muscled shoulder.
"You gonna share that?" Duo watched as Trowa opened his eyes, the green dark. Nodding, his ex-lover held the blunt out. He took it carefully, making sure their fingers didn't touch. He inhaled, smoke burning down his throat and filling his lungs. Handing it back, Duo turned, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes cold.
"Thanks," he exhaled. He hadn't though it would hurt so damn much. "Relena's due tomorrow. Think they'll induce?"
"It's too early," Trowa watched him; the slight tremor to his hands, the way he was blinking. He could always tell when Duo felt trapped. When he wanted to run. He inhaled slowly, the memory of a mouth on his wrist sinking through his skin. "I missed you."
"So did Heero. And Relena, and Wufei and Quatre," Duo snorted, turning to look back over the snow, away from the mask of Trowa's face. He didn't want to be doing this. To be standing there, talking to Trowa about Quatre, about their friends. About nothing. "I was sorry to hear about you two."
"He figured out his priorities. And I figured out mine," Trowa didn't want to hear the bitterness in the braided man's voice. Didn't want to hear anything but pleasure coming out of his mouth, to see him with his head thrown back, arching to meet his thrusts.
"Yeah, well. It was bound to happen. At least you guys didn't have kids," Duo gave him a crooked grin, moving to leave the gazebo.
Trowa's fingers were on his wrist. His hand was sliding in to his hair, lips pressing against his firmly. Duo's breath caught, tasting him for a moment. Then he tensed, shoving Trowa back, glaring and growling.
"Not interested. Sorry," he growled, muscles tight under his skin. The other man raised his hands, stepping back slightly, face calm. He held the blunt out.
"I didn't want you to leave. Please stay," Trowa watched him reach for the blunt, violet eyes dark and glaring. He watched the line of his jaw, the tightening of his throat as he inhaled. Duo exhaled, handing the blunt back, careful not to let their fingers touch. Trowa felt the cold begin to seep in to his bones. "I won't touch you, Duo. Not if you don't want me to."
Duo felt his body relax, watching warily as Trowa hopped up to sit on the railing, long legs reaching to the floor. He was still tall, still a slim line of hard muscle, hair falling in to his eyes. Duo looked away, trying not to swallow. Trying not to reach out, hold, touch, take. And then Trowa was talking, speaking soft Russian in to the winter air.
"Words are cheap. I can tell you I'm sorry, that I've changed, beg you to forgive me. But we both know it doesn't mean shit." The Russian echoed in the gazebo.
"No, it doesn't," Duo pushed off the railing, eyes closed, listening to Trowa's voice, passionate, whispering Russian in to his ear while he fondled him, hand sliding feverishly over his cock.
"You loved me. I don't make assumptions about how you feel now," Russian was theirs. Quatre didn't know it. Neither did Wufei, and Heero didn't care one way or the other.
"I did. It was a mistake," Duo's voice was tight, controlled. English. Trowa felt heavy, the dull ache of old bruises.
"No. It was the greatest gift I was ever given. And I was stupid for giving it u," It was more Russian that Trowa had spoken in years. Duo laughed harshly.
"I meant for me," He turned, looking at him. "I guess we both learned."
"I guess," Trowa stood, the English feeling stiff on his tongue. Duo snorted, leaning back against the railing, watching him take another hit. And then he was pinned, bodies a only just not touching, looking down at him with an expression knew, recognized: hunger. Slowly, Trowa bent, exhaling slowly against his lips, mouths barely apart.
"What do you want?" Duo growled, muscles poised for action, for violence, for movement against the body trapping him.
"I want my world back." Trowa whispered in Russian, then pulled back, slipping the blunt between Duo's fingers. "But it's not mine to take.
"No, it's not," Duo glared at him, eyes hard as metal, boring through him, ready to run.
"Don't run away. Heero needs you right now. Your godchild needs you," Trowa slipped out of the gazebo, leaving Duo trembling, back pressed against the railing, blunt ashing between his fingers.
Heero watched as Duo entered the study, eyes scanning the room before he sat heavily. He'd stayed outside for over an hour after Trowa had come in. Silently, he slid the braided man ad hot cup of coffee. Duo's fingers curled around it, giving him a tired, grateful smile.
"Thanks, 'Ro," he said, yawning.
"He asked about you. Every time we talked," Heero kept all emotion out of his voice. With Duo, Trowa was a touchy subject. The tensing of his hands on the mug was the only outward sign that Duo was upset.
"So?" He wanted to sneer, to sound scathing, to sound anything but bitter or hopeful.
"He was a mess. After you left. Especially when he realized you weren't coming back," Hero rubbed the bridge of his nose. He'd watched both of them. Duo, in his self-imposed isolation, Trowa, realizing too late to follow his emotions.
"He got exactly what he wanted," Duo knew he sounded bitter, this time, tongue curling under the flavor of his words. Heero's hand was on his shoulder, taking the cup from his grasp and setting it on the table. He looked up in time to see the first that caught him square in the jaw. Reeling, he put his hand out, clutching at Heero as he tried to regain his equilibrium.
"It's been five years, Duo. People make mistakes," Heero spoke firmly, helping him sit down. "You ran away. You put up the walls. And now you're giving him Hell when he tries to pull them down."
"He didn't want me. Doesn't want me," Duo glared at him, then looked at the floor, chin aching. "He just wants an outlet."
"Is that what you think?" His eyebrows raised in disbelief, Heero snorted. Duo's "I know" was almost silent as Heero opened the door. "Fine. Be miserable."
The door slammed as Heero left. Duo flinched. Glared at the wood floor, hands clenching by his side. He knew exactly what their "relationship" had been: a way for them to vent their violence, to let their demons out to play.
And Duo had fallen in love, finally feeling like he'd found someone who matched him. Who could keep up, not just in bed, but everywhere. Who knew was it was like, growing up alone. On the streets. To have everyone you cared about ripped away. Duo had found an equal. Who was in love with someone else.
He'd hoped that the time, that the distance would lessen it, the hurt, the hunger, the way his body dragged towards Trowa even now, seeking the familiar warmth of his skin. That work, and the endless nights with faceless strangers would make him forget the way their bodies clung to each other, sweat trailing down their skin. He'd been wrong, and it hurt, to have something he couldn't have so close.
