Notes: Thank you to Tina for bein' a beta!
General Warnings: Yaoi, angst, bits and pieces of sap slipped in. References to infidelity.
This Part Specific: Mentions of Bad Use of Science, Medical Experiments, Alcohol Use, Light Homophobia (And they get theirs)
Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing
The first time Trowa really saw Duo, they were at a bar. He had his head on the table, hand around a bottle of vodka, and Duo was drunk on whiskey and anger.
"I can't fucking believe that asshole," he growled, knocking back another shot, and Trowa didn't know if he meant Heero or J. He didn't think it mattered anymore, because hermano was gone, had left them to live, and with the last rational part of his brain, Trowa knew Heero had to go, needed to go, but it still sucked. Somewhere his brother, his baby brother, was drugged and vivisected, alive only through science and the will of Duo, who had made sure that Heero knew if he didn't go back, he'd be going after him.
Duo took another shot, then slid an arm around Trowa's waist. Right now, their Perfect Soldier, his Perfect Soldier, was being tortured under the guise of progress. Heero said he had to go back, needed drugs only they could give to stabilize his body, and Duo hated that need, hated that they'd instilled it in him. He felt bowed under the weight of what they carried, even now, four years after the war was over. Trowa leaned against him, and for a moment the burdened was shared.
"What if he doesn't come back?" Duo asked, mouth muffled against Trowa's hair. Trowa pressed his side against Duo, hearing every question he was afraid to ask, like "what if he dies?" and "what if you die?" and "what if he doesn't know?" Trowa turned, nuzzling Duo's shoulder.
"Come on, brat. He'll come home," he nudged Duo with his elbow, watching him and the slow ease of tension from his shoulders. Duo turned and licked his cheek, and Trowa beamed, nudging him out of the booth, nodding his head towards a group of men with open disgust on their faces. Duo slid out, eyes flickering, then laughed as he was suddenly whirled and dipped, Trowa's lips moving silently against his ear.
"You wanna play, Shini?" Trowa's voice was impish and playful and Duo grinned and nodded. Only Trowa could call him that, and it was their play name, a way to signal the shift.
The fight was over before it began, and Duo laughed as Trowa bowed extravagantly, offering his arm with a formal "May I?" Duo took his arm, and they clung to each other, Duo's laughter wild and unhinged, bouncing off the brick walls and infecting Trowa, who was soon laughing with him, grabbing his hands and dragging him in to a waltz.
Trowa sang loudly in Russian, and Duo joined. Trowa was struck all at once by the wild, feral thing in his arms, dancing and looking human in a mask as good as his own.