As You Are
By Merith

Pairings: 2x4x2
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, yaoi, language, angst, hints of NCS
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!
A/N: Inspired by two separate conversations, this story became a challenge of sorts. Could I as an author, write a believable story with a pairing I didn't believe would work? Thanks to Nayla for babysitting and Saro for letting me bounce ideas off her (don't worry, she wore protective headgear).

To: Arithion, who believes, and to Saro, who could believe.

~

Part IV: As you are

The moment I hit the warm spring air, I knew I had to keep walking - I had to put distance between him and me. Just thinking of him laying on my bed kept the memories flowing, one after another tumbling through my mind, juxtaposed like some badly edited film.

Duo as he stalked over the grass to pounce and gnaw on my neck and shoulders. As Duo straddled my chair and climbed in my lap to lick my nose. As he curled cat-like on my newspaper spread on the floor, blinking up at me. As he danced an impromptu strip tease to get my attention. The challenge in his eyes as he leaned over and licked the ice cream from my cone in one long stroke. And Duo as he stretched out beside me in bed, his leg thrown over mine.

What started as a walk, quickly became a run. The memories wouldn't quit, my body continued to betray me. My skin burned, my fingertips itched and I ached to feel him, to touch him.

I stumbled across the park, and came to rest against a tree at the pond's edge. Drawing a ragged breath and fighting the urge to run back, I closed my eyes and let the one memory I'd denied myself for months to come. The one memory I could never forget; the one memory I'll always cherish.

He'd been fresh from the shower, his skin glowed pink, his hair braided and still wet. Carrying one of his textbooks, he answered the door wearing gym shorts and a tank top - though mid-fall, it'd been a warm night. We were supposed to watch a movie, but he explained that he needed to finish reading part of an assignment first, plopping back on his chair. I grabbed the latest Stephen King book in a series we'd been reading, and laid on his bed. Though not usual, it happened often enough. And it wasn't as if the movie had mattered.

The minutes had ticked by, punctuated only by the sound of turning pages. Duo'd sat with his feet perched on the edge of the mattress, his book propped on bent knees. I'd laid on my side facing him, one hand idly stroking his bare feet, playing with his toes. So engrossed in the story, I'd barely registered him calling my name.


I raised my eyes from the page; the look he gave I'd never seen before. Sharp - with no intent to harm. Burning - without the flame. Hunger - no food could assuage, his expression showed a need that could only be sated in one way. Afraid but excited, I felt the smile form.

"Quatre," he called out again, his voice soft, low and rough with an edge.

He'd been watching me as I lay; my heart thumped and I swallowed hard. "Wh-what?" I stuttered near breathless.

His feet hit the floor and he dropped his text to the side as he leaned forward, his eyes never leaving mine. "This." And he kissed me, pressing me backwards. I felt the mattress dip as he knelt by my side. Hands around his waist, I pulled him closer. Duo won my attention from the battling forces of good and evil without a fight.

Pulling back, he slid onto his side facing me, his fingers brushed at the loose fringe of my bangs, and trailed down my face. When his eyes caught mine, he licked his lips. "We can be more than friends..." he whispered, his eyes alternately offering and demanding something from me.

"More than friends?" I breathed the question.

"Let me show you..." he said softly even as his lips glided over mine.

I reached for him, bringing my hands up to cradle his face and slide over his arms. Our mouths met again a little too eagerly, crushing lips against teeth. Duo drew back; his chuckle blew against my cheek, making me shiver.

"Quatre," his voice was quiet and almost as breathless as I felt. "Relax, let me show you." His eyes darted over my face and he lowered his head once again, brushing his lips against mine.

I tried reaching for him, and he stopped it; he rolled me on my back and pinned my arm to the bed, chuckling softly between the kisses. He raised himself above me, continuing to rain soft quick kisses over my face and down my neck. Releasing my wrist, he used his hands instead to touch me, to unbutton my shirt.

Feeling his lips at the juncture between my neck and shoulder, I turned my head to the side, letting out a shuddering breath. His fingers were fire and seared on contact. His lips trailed his hands to leave cool, caressing kisses from breast to navel. Even as he slid my shirt off and tossed it behind him, I stopped breathing.

He raised himself to sit straddling my thighs, hands low on my sides. His gaze locked with mine, fingers at the button of my jeans, unzipping the fly. Sliding his hands under the waistband of my briefs, he pushed at them, slipping both pants and shorts off hips. My pulse raced. Where his fingertips met bare skin, the nerves quivered, skittish at the touch. I gripped the bed cover in my fists, wanting nothing more than to hurry his progress.

Duo sat back, tugging at my pants, pulling them from my legs; they followed my shirt. If looks had the power of combustion, his would have set fire to my flesh. I burned, I wanted, my hand strayed to my thigh, brushing skin. I wanted to touch, I wanted to feel him. The need, as yet undescribable, ached in my groin.

The hands on my calves moved in a soothing motion. Finished with his visual appreciation, Duo wet his lips. Holding my gaze, he let out a slow breath. "I can't do this to you, Quatre. You're ...innocent," reluctance coloring his tone.

"Not innocent," I managed and pulled myself up, reaching for him. I had to somehow convince him what he wanted, I wanted. Hands on his shoulders, I drew him closer. "I've never... before." Lips on his, hands clutched skin in desperation. "I need you, Duo. Please."

A sudden burning hunger consumed us. Our mouths met, crashing together bruising and splitting lips, our hands grasped and grabbed at clothing, at hair; fierce and wild, a powerful frenzy of clashing bodies and tearing fabric. At one point, he pulled back his body trembling with the effort. He shook his head in silent denial even as his hands caressed my bared chest, his fingers leaving heated trails as they traveled farther down.

"Not innocent," I repeated wanting to alleviate any hesitation.

That was all it took. I found myself pressed against the mattress, his body on mine. His mouth devoured my lips, coherent thought quickly became beyond my capacity. I wanted his skin against mine, experience how it felt. Tugging at his shirt focused his attention, pulled him from an erotic dream. A meeting of lips, and he jumped from the bed.

"I've got to get..." He looked frantic for a moment, then grinned. I watched as he pulled his shirt off and stepped out of his shorts. Never having seen another man naked before, I could only stare. Beautiful. Strong, he exuded sexuality with every impressive inch of flesh. Seeing where my eyes strayed, he grinned softly and rubbed a hand self-consciously over his abdomen.

So engrossed in my appraisal, I didn't see what he'd retrieved from the desk drawer. He came to the edge of the bed where I sat, waiting. Bringing my eyes up to his, allowing them to express what they'd seen in him, I ran my hands over his chest, circling back down to rest at his hips. Not quite knowing what I wanted, what I was doing, I pressed my face against his belly, kissed him, held him.

"Quatre..." he groaned, digging his fingers in my hair. I'd moved my way down, and nuzzled into the curly mass at his groin. I'd only managed a kiss before I laid flat on my back again with Duo straddling me. "Let me..." he murmured against my lips.

As if on instinct, I parted my legs; Duo dropped between them, his hips settling atop mine. He mirrored my gasp, wide-eyed in shock and excitement. Leaning on an elbow, he held his body partly off me, one hand stroking my cheek, his lips planting kisses along my jaw.

"Let me, Quatre. Let me show you," his voice low, vibrant.

I barely nodded, losing sense once more. Duo rose up, and positioned himself above my hips, his legs spread to either side with my knees at his back. He leaned over briefly, one hand touching skin, tracing circles. I watched with half closed eyes as he opened a small package. He guided my hand up his thigh, over his abdomen and posed it above his hairline. His eyes never leaving mine, he lowered our hands.

He jerked, rocking his hips into our joined hands. His response triggered my own, and I thrust upward into him. "Oh God!" Not sure who cried out, I could only repeat what had been said.

"I can't wait any longer..." he whispered almost frantically, and slid back, pushing my legs down. Bending almost double, Duo lowered his mouth down and a moist warmth engulfed my penis. I think I screamed, I might have fainted. I knew only the pleasure radiating up and out from his actions.

A cool slickness replaced the warmth, and I murmured a protest. Duo kissed my stomach, and said in a low voice, "It's necessary." His fingers, coated in a gel, glided over the sheath that now surrounded me; he stroked its surface, livening the sensations with his touch. The smell of our sex, our mingling sweat and breath combined with the tingling excitement and feel of eager fingers over too sensitive skin brewed a heady mixture. I thrust up into his hand without realizing it.

As Duo sank down over me, impaling himself, I knew I'd entered a celestial plane. My eyes widened. I heard a low keening, barely realized I was making the small noises. Even feeling him, seeing him kneeling above me - raising and lowering his body in rhythmic motion - stretched my belief it wasn't a dream. He encompassed me, softly killing with each passage.

The desire to touch him manifested, and I clutched, first at his fingers clinging to my hips. His deeply expressive eyes bore into mine and he gasped out my name. My hands quested higher, landing on his thighs. Feeling his muscles bunch and flex as he raised and lowered himself caused me to moan out loud. He was doing this, moving over me, making me feel things I'd only barely dreamt possible.

My nails dug into his flesh, and I thrust upward, meeting his downward stroke. Duo grabbed at me, squeezing my arms in a vicious grip, his face wrenched in ecstasy. He gave a hoarse cry of pleasure. His erection wavered before me, slick with its own moisture. My hand sought this new goal, and, reaching it, I held it reverently as a sacred thing.

Even as he met each thrust of mine, his breath came in ragged gasps. I could feel the culmination ready to burst forth from the flesh in my hand; I'd had been working instinctively, gliding over its shaft in rapid strokes.

Suddenly, he threw back his head, his fingernails dug deeply into my upper-arms, and he cried out. Warmth spread hotter than the heat we'd already created, my senses overloaded, feeling his muscles tighten, smelling him - all of him, hearing his cry, watching his face, and knowing it was me who had done this to him, I lost myself in the feeling.


I don't remember what had happened after, but I know I'd woken in a half doze at one point in the night. Duo snuggled close to my back, his arm over my waist. Feeling pleased, warm and comfortable, I'd adjusted how I lay, and drifted into sleep once again.


"I thought I'd find you here."

Duo's voice startled me. Looking up, I saw he had stopped a little over a foot from the bench; close enough I could touch him. Heat in my cheeks, I looked out over the pond. Lost as I'd been, I hadn't even realized I'd moved to the bench. "Guess I'm predictable that way."

He chuckled softly. "Just a little."

I heard him shift, and shot a glance in his direction. Seeing how uncomfortable he looked, I slid over and indicated he should sit. Duo let out a breath settling down.

"Are you ready to talk? Or do you need more time?"

His resigned tone drew my attention. He looked haggard and tired. "I thought you were sleeping," I said quietly.

The small smile he gave was more than a bit sheepish. "Yeah, sorry about that." He moved his gaze back to the pond. "Guess I was more tired than I thought."

How unfair I'd been hit me again. Moving closer, I touched his arm, a faint brush. "Can I ... hold you?"

Startled, he gaped and then nodded. Relief, unexpected and strong, eased away the tension I'd been holding all night. Duo slid into my embrace and settled against me. It clicked, what had been absent, and I kissed the top of his head reflexively. "I've missed this," my whisper hoarse. He nodded against my shirt; his arm no longer hesitant to encircle my waist.

Several long minutes passed, neither spoke. For once in this long night, my thoughts had quieted, I'd nothing left to remember, nothing left to prod into life. As the slight breeze rippled on the water, I drew a deep breath. Though I'd nothing to dredge up from the past, we still had to talk about the future. Questions needing answer still laid between us.

"Heero was your lover," I stated rather than asked. It hadn't been what I'd planned on saying. The center of my discontent, a light needed to be shed.

Duo stilled. I felt the release of breath and his shoulders bowed under my arms. "He was. A long time ago."

My arm tightened around him, my hand lightly stroked his side. "I've been an idiot."

He snorted softly and pulled back to look at me. "I think we both share that title."

"But..." I couldn't help the sigh. "I've been jealous of him, you know."

"No, I didn't know." Duo blinked in surprise. "I never thought... it'd been so long, and he has Trowa..."

"Sense never plays a part in jealousy." I kissed his hair again.

His laugh startled me. "Last week, I was so jealous of Wufei. He'd been hanging out, spending time with you. Doing things I used to do. Doing things I wanted to do. I wanted to kill him."

"Of Wufei?" It was my turn to be surprised.

Duo nodded. "Yeah, of Wufei. You never let anyone get that close to you. Not like you did him. Not like you let me."

His logic made sense, even if not true. "There's never been anyone like you, Duo."

He aborted the shiver as it started with a loud snort. "No, I figured that out last week." He shook his head against my side. "We are a couple of idiots. How come we didn't talk before?"

"I don't think we were ready to listen before." I'd done a lot of thinking over the past several hours, and that had to be the only reason behind our actions.

"Are we ready to listen to one another now?" his query quiet and serious.

Nodding, I offered, "I think so... I hope so."

"Good." He fell silent for a moment. "What do you want to hear?"

I shifted, suddenly uneasy. I knew what I wanted him to tell me, but not certain I wanted to hear about it. "Tell me about Heero - the real story this time."

Duo pulled back out of my arms and faced the pond. "I don't know if I can - tell you the whole story, I mean. I can tell you what I can, what I know." He shot a glance in my direction. "I can't do this sitting here though. Can we take a walk or something?"

Without waiting for a reply, he jumped to his feet and stepped away. I rose slowly, stretching the kinks out and watched while he stood, shoving his hands in his pockets, looking back towards the university. "Lead the way." I moved up beside him.

He began to speak as soon as we hit the path. Most of what he said I'd already known, about arriving at the home and Heero being his protector, his friend. His voice at times dropped so low I had to lean close to hear him, at no time did he stop talking, at no time did he allow me to ask questions.

"I was eleven when it happened. Heero was fourteen." He kept his face averted. Almost wishing I hadn't asked, I picked up one of his hands and gave it a squeeze. "He didn't mean to. At least not the first time," his voice a mere whisper of breath.

"See, when I was younger, I used to have bad dreams, nightmares. I woke a lot during the night, waking Heero and anyone else in the room with us. To make things easier, we'd taken to sleeping together, so no one would get mad, and try to take it out on me." He drew a shuddering breath and stopped.

"I knew what sex was, shit, all the boys knew in the home, no matter the age. Heero, he'd been pushing me out of his bed, not wanting me to sleep with him for a couple of months before it happened. But that night, the dreams..." Abruptly, he started walking, jerking me into motion. "He'd been having a fucking dream himself, only it wasn't a nightmare."

"Duo," I pulled on his hand. "You don't have to..."

"Yes!" He turned on me suddenly, his eyes fierce. "Don't you see, if I'm not completely open, even to myself, it'll always hang between us. It's not something I'm going to forget." He closed his eyes and passed a hand over his face. "There's not much more to tell, not that you don't know already."

I dropped his hand and hugged him. "I think I understand a lot, now." Holding Duo, I recalled Heero not being able to face me, standing across the street from the convenince store. He'd tried to tell me something, then, and couldn't. Not the full story, at least.

Duo's arms went around my shoulders, his face buried into my neck. "I loved him Quatre. I hated him."

The anguish in his voice palatable, I felt helpless. The shushing noises and back rubs did not wipe away the past. "It's okay, Duo. It's okay."

Another shuddering breath, and he spoke again. "Heero loved me. He'd been like a brother to me, and I would have done anything for him... anything." Duo released me, and pushed me away softly, holding me at arm's length. His eyes searched mine, looking for something I wasn't sure. Whatever it'd been, he found it. He smile sadly and touched my face.

"You really are special, Quatre Winner." Taking my hand in his, he pulled me into a slow walk. "Just to set the record straight, it wasn't as though he demanded it of me. After that first time, I mean. I knew it for ... an accident? ...a tragedy? whatever, it happened. I was sore for awhile, but that was it."

He took a deep breath. "A couple of months later though, we did more than sleep in the same bed. Mostly just touching, kissing, kid stuff." He gave me a sideway glance. "When he suggested doing it, only he told me it'd be better than the first time, I refused to sleep with him. But I loved him Quatre, I couldn't help but give in to him."

I squeezed his hand again, not wanting to hear any more, not wanting to stop him.

"I... learned to like it, to enjoy it," his voice dropped low again. He grimaced and shot me a wry smile. "We were lovers for two years. Then Trowa came. He was assigned to our room, and things were pretty crowded. Heero and I, well, we couldn't do anything. Not with Trowa there. I thought he had started to suspect something was going on. When Heero stopped touching me, doing some of the things he used to do, I'd thought it was because of Trowa."

He fell silent. "They'd become lovers," I stated quietly. Duo jerked his head slightly.

"I walked in on them. I was supposed to be at practice, but the coach was sick, and the assistant didn't know the routine." He shrugged. "That's when I started doing a lot of stuff I shouldn't have." Duo laughed self-deprecatingly. "It was Trowa who made me see what I was doing. He was the one who brought Heero and I back together. I would have lost him otherwise."

Within sight of the dorm building, he came to a stop. "Let's go sit for a moment, okay?" At my nod, he led me off the path, and up the small grassy knoll overlooking the quadplex.

We sat close, not touching one another. I looked up at the stars, trying to imagine what he'd been through, and how he could be who he is with all of that behind him. "What would you like to hear?" I asked, drawing my legs up, resting my chin on my knees.

Duo made some vague humming noise before asking, "Does you dad still have that intern job open for the summer?"

I couldn't help but laugh. "That's what you want to know? You don't want to know why I've been such a bastard to you? Why I'm such a spoiled rich brat?"

His hand on his chin for a moment, he announced, "Yeah, that's about it." And he grinned.

"Seriously?"

He brushed his shoulder to mine. "Seriously. I've got an offer to work for that Chaney guy, the one who's in charge of the youth program in the city, but I'm not sure I want to do that." He shrugged slightly. "I had enough of youth programs. But I haven't seen how the business side of the world works."

I returned his smile, shaking my head. "The internship's still open. I... " I looked skyward. "I hadn't told dad we'd broken up. At first, I didn't want to answer any questions, and then, it never came up."

His hand touched my arm, drawing my attention back to him. "You don't have to explain yourself to me, Quatre. I have a pretty good idea what motivates you, and underneath that spoiled rotten skin, lays a pretty cool heart. Everything you did, you did with good intentions."

"That's not an excuse," I said bitterly. "I treated you badly, Duo. I said some pretty awful things, thought even worse ones. I tried to change who you were. That's not right."

"No, it's not right." He pulled his legs up, crossing his feet, his hands rested on his knees. "And if you do it again, I'll call you on it. Most of that shit was just that, shit. There were things you asked of me that I knew I'd have to change some time or other, so I didn't mind - it didn't matter. But there were some things... " He gave me a serious look. "I wanted to hit you for, and I never want to feel that way about you again."

Nodding vaguely, I sat back, dropping my hands down to the grass. "We're not really a couple, are we?" I asked watching his expression. A stricken look passed, and he shook his head.

"What are we then?" his question a mere whisper between us.

I peered from beneath the fringe of my bangs. "What do you want, Duo?" I asked instead of answering.

He gave me a wistful smile, almost shy, and totally out of character for him. Absently, his fingers shred a blade of grass. Turning away, he looked off over the darkened campus towards the Science triplex. It took awhile, but when he spoke, his voice was clear and strong. "I want to be with you. That's it."

"After all I'd done, said, why?"

He shot me a glance. Color appeared bright for a moment on his face. Brushing the grass from his jeans, he laid back on his elbows with legs stretched out front and lifted his head to stare at the sky. "I don't know. Honestly." His grin flashed and he chuckled. "You can be such an ass, a holy prig, but shit... there's something about you..." He rolled to lay on his side, leaning on an elbow to watch me. "This is probably going to be the stupidest thing I've ever said, but whenever I'm with you, like now I mean, it just... feels right. You feel right, like no matter what happens, it'll be okay."

A choking sensation kept me from speaking; I could only stare in return. Finally forcing myself to say something, I croaked out, "Not stupid." Hardly an adequate response, but the best I could manage.

As though he understood, he touched my arm, slid his palm over bare skin and cupped his fingers in mine. "So what now? What are we?" he asked again.

I looked at him then, remembering all I could about him.

The feel of our first kiss and how pliant his lips had been. The first time he made love to me, his touch, the feel of moving inside him. The feel of him inside me. How his sweat slicked skin rubbed against mine. The weight of his braid when it fell, the silkiness of his hair brushing my chest. The softness of his cheek under my fingertips.

And how he'd appear late at night, his hair tousled, lids slitted half-shut with a cat-ate-the-canary, very sated expression. Seeing him as he slept, spread to every inch of his bed when alone, and neatly compact when curled next to me. In the early morning hours, before the first cup of coffee, his eyes not quite open, his mind still half asleep when his words made no sense and his body sought reassurance I was there. Anger clashed with his geniality; the dark almost black color that flooded his normally blue irises.

As he slouched at lunch, hunched over the table or laid back, his feet propped up on another chair. In my room, sprawled across the floor playing a game, watching a movie. At class he'd be attentive, every sense alert tracking discussions as they flew; his brain alive and active, enjoying the debates.

The smell of his shampoo, cheap and fragrant, lingered in my olfactory memory. Of the cologne he insisted on wearing, when inclined to wear any, sharp and strong, manly in a blue-collar world. The sweat-soaked shirt pressed to my face in a hug after a basketball game. The fresh cleanness while sharing a shower.

Wincing when he sang bawdy songs at the top of his lungs crossing the quad. The involuntary mewls and gasps, whispering my name at the pinnacle of culmination. Dirty and crude suggestions in the middle of class, distracting, exciting and embarrassing. And melodious, deep velvet baritone, joining harmony with Trowa and Heero.

The taste of him, his kisses, his flesh. The musky saltiness when he'd climax. And each part of him different; sweet and dry to pungent and moist.

All of it distinctively Duo.

"I don't know," I replied at last, honesty and regret in my tone. He dropped his gaze, releasing his hold. Before he could pull away completely, I turned to him, my hand going to the nape of his neck. "But I'd like to find out." And I kissed him.

~