Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Waiting ❯ Chapter 1
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Disclaimer: I don't own them, don't sue me. If you try to sue, I'll send my kids after you. Trust me, you'd pay me to take them back.
Pairings: 3+2, past 3x4
Warnings: Duo POV sap, sap, and a little more sap just in case that wasn't enough. A teeny-tiny bit of something that resembles angst, sorta. Pissed off Quatre (don't get mad at me for that. I really like Q, but he needed to be mad for the purpose of this fic. I apologize to my daughter for it, who's really gonna be pissed.)
AN: Someone asked the question `What did Duo say to make Quatre so mad?' You know who you are, figured I answer it for you in this way.
Most people think that I'm impatient, and for the most part they would be right. I have a habit of complaining when I have to wait for something, as loud as possible, but it's mainly because I know that it's expected of me. When there is something that I really, really want, I can wait if I have to.
I've had a lot of experience waiting for the last few years. Waiting for the one thing I wanted more than anything. Waiting…without any real hope.
I was waiting for Trowa.
I don't know how long I'd been in love with him, but it felt like forever. I know it wasn't until after the wars were over, but I'm still not real sure when my feelings went from wanting him to be a friend to wanting more, a lot more, more than I would ever have. And so I waited without ever saying anything about how I felt, contenting myself with being his friend.
Even knowing that he was with Quatre, and probably always would be, didn't manage to quell how I felt. I often had dreams of what it could be like if we were together. Our weekly outings were something I waited for, looking forward to seeing him again, if only for a few hours.
I still dated other people, people that weren't associated with our little group of five. I always had fun with my dates, but couldn't make myself feel more than a passing attraction with any of them. There were very few that I went out with more than a handful of times, and only three that I managed to go to bed with. After the third, I gave up on the idea of sleeping with anyone, not wanting to feel the emptiness that I had felt after we were finished. While I had enjoyed spending time with these men, they really were great guys after all; I just couldn't make myself feel more for them. It took me a while to realize that I couldn't feel more than that for them because they weren't Trowa.
It only took me two years to figure all of that out. After that, I still dated, but never let anything get to the point where we would possibly be intimate. During that time, I kept all of my Saturdays free, just so I could see Trowa. For a couple of hours each week, I was able to fool myself that he was mine while we went to the movies, or out to eat, or to play a game.
I didn't know what was happening between Quatre and Trowa, but I suddenly noticed that Trowa didn't speak about Quatre anymore. Sure, there was the absent-minded remark every once in a while, but he never spoke of them doing anything together. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, I waited for a few more weeks before I ever brought the subject up. He shared that they were more distant than they had been in the past, and it obviously bothered him a great deal.
Two days later, Trowa called me, obviously confused and worried. My heart ached for the pain I could see in him, the anguish in his voice making me want to weep. “What is it, Trowa? What's wrong?”
“Quatre said…Saturday night…he didn't even…” he trailed off, looking at me helplessly.
I gave him a soft smile, hoping he didn't see how strained it was. “Take a deep breath, Tro,” I suggested, waiting for him to do so. When he did, I could see him calm down a little, not much, but enough for him to talk clearly. “I'm guessing Quatre did something Saturday night after you got back?”
“He didn't even notice that I was gone, Duo. He asked me if I had gone for a walk. He told me a little while ago that I haven't left the house by myself in months.”
His green eyes were pleading with me to do something -say something- that would make him feel better. I couldn't deny him anything, and Shin help me if he ever figured that out. I knew what I was going to do, and the thought of it made me hurt, but it wanted to do what was best for Trowa. “Why don't I come over and talk to Quatre for a little while? Maybe I can talk some sense into him or something,” I offered, hoping the pain I felt didn't show.
The hesitant smile he gave me as he nodded made me wonder if I had lost what was left of my mind. Here I was, going to talk to Trowa's boyfriend, giving Quatre advice to help him keep the very man that I wanted for myself. I took a moment to remind myself that Trowa was the most important thing. “If Quatre doesn't know how lucky he is, I'll have to let him know.” I hung up the phone with a wince, hoping that Trowa hadn't heard me say that.
It didn't take me long to get to the home that Quatre and Trowa shared. It was like most of the Winner family holdings, large and opulent. I had asked Trowa before how he could live surrounded with so much wealth. He had shrugged those broad shoulders and stated that he mostly stayed in the rooms that felt comfortable to him, like the bedroom, kitchen, and library. I could understand that, those were, after all, my favorite rooms in my own house, even though my library/office wasn't nearly as grand as theirs.
Not wanting to see Trowa before I spoke to Quatre, I asked one of the many servants to take me to the man of the house. I was shown to Quatre's office, not really surprised that I didn't see Trowa anywhere. It was just another reminder of the problems that the two were having; in the past they would have been inseparable, but now it was difficult to actually find them together.
Quatre wasn't happy to see me, but I wasn't really sure why. We had been close friends during the war, but after that we had put some distance between us. I didn't know what caused it then, and I'm not really sure now, but I had a distinct sensation that my feelings towards Trowa was a large part of the problem, Quatre is an empath after all. Even though I had never spoken of my feelings, I'm pretty sure he knew what they were.
He gestured me to sit, taking his own chair behind the huge desk. I understood the reasoning behind this, and swore that I wouldn't let myself be intimidated by the maneuver. “Duo, what a nice surprise.”
“I seriously doubt that,” I had to say. Sometimes my mouth went off without having my brains consent, a phenomenon that Trowa and I had started calling word-vomit. Apparently this was going to be one of those times. “You don't really seem happy to see me.”
“I am a busy man,” he offered me a smile that was as transparent as glass. “What can I do for you today?”
“I don't need anything, but I think you might need some advice before you manage to fuck up the best thing in your life.” Whoops. Word-vomit strikes again. I really need to work on that problem…eventually.
All traces of kindness disappeared faster than the food at a buffet at a weight-watchers convention. His eyes went hard; his mouth formed a straight line. “And what exactly would you be referring to, or do I even need to ask?”
“You need to mind your own business, Duo. What happens between Trowa and I is none of your damn business.”
Uh-oh, I do believe I have managed to piss Quatre off. He doesn't cuss unless he's pretty mad. “Trowa is my best friend. It upsets him that you don't notice him any more. You've been ignoring him.”
“I have been doing no such thing. I don't appreciate you coming into my home and accusing me of things you have no knowledge of. You don't know what goes on between us.” He stood, leaning across the desk slightly, his voice angry.
“I know that he's been going out at least once a week and you didn't fucking notice. I know that you spend more time socializing with the suck-ups and ass-kissers than you do your own boyfriend. I know that you haven't had a date with Trowa in over eight months. You have your head stuck so far up your own ass that you can't see that you are going to lose him if you don't do something about it.” By now, I was standing, too. My hands were clenched by my sides and I was practically snarling at him.
“Wouldn't that make you happy?”
I blinked at the sudden question. It took me a minute to figure out what he meant. “No, it wouldn't. You're hurting him. I just want him to be happy.”
He began to laugh, not a good laugh either. It was one of those laughs that let you know that if he had a gun and a shovel handy, I would be soooooo dead right about now, and my body hidden very well. The creepy laughing stopped rather abruptly, “You think you could do a better job of making him happy than I can? Isn't that what this is really about?”
“He's happy with you,” ouch, that hurt to say. I had to remind myself that I was doing this for Trowa, and put my own feelings to the side. “He's always been happy with you, until recently.”
“You think I need your advice about how to deal with my lover? Guess what? I don't need it. I've known how to make Trowa happy for a long time.”
Okay. I've been trying to be nice, but fuck it. “If you've been keeping him happy, then why am I the one that he talks to about his problems. I know for a fact that you haven't screwed in months. Is that your idea of keeping him happy? One of these days he's gonna get tired of waiting for you to pay attention to him and find someone who will.”
“Get out of this house. I don't want you in it any longer. You had no right to stick your nose in this.” Quatre wasn't just mad, he was upset, too. I didn't know if he was upset at me, himself or the entire situation. “I can't believe I thought you were actually my friend. All you wanted was a chance to make Trowa your own.” Hmmm. Apparently, he was upset with me the most.
I moved to the door. I would have known even without him telling me that I was no longer welcome there. I had one more thing to say, and I figured it would be best to be as close to an exit as possible. “If you don't start treating him the way he should be, I'll do my damndest to take him from you.”
I went out the door in a hurry, Quatre hot on my heels. Trowa was standing near the door, his eyes wide as he watched the normally sweet blonde come at me like he was going to take off my head. Honestly, if he had gotten his hands on me…he might have.
Even as I high-tailed it outside, I could hear Quatre shouting behind me. “That bastard is no longer allowed in my home. He needs to learn to keep his nose out of things that don't concern him. Until then, I don't want him in my house.”
Couldn't blame him, I guess. Then again, I had come over with the intention of offering him some friendly advice. If he hadn't decided to be a smart-ass, I wouldn't have said what I did. I didn't plan on ever taking Trowa from him, no matter how many times I dreamed of how it would be.
I didn't really expect Trowa to continue our Saturday outings after that, so you could have knocked me over with a feather when I answered the door a few days later and found him looking at me with a confused expression. When I reminded him of Quatre's edict, he merely shrugged at me in that eloquent way that he had about him. “We aren't at the house. Quatre never said that we couldn't hang out. I wouldn't listen even if he had. He's my lover, not my father.”
So we kept out usual Saturday `date' as we jokingly called it. I never asked how they were getting along, because I didn't want to hear how well they were doing. Trowa would sometimes tell me about things, trying to explain how different things were between them now. They were getting along well, spending more time together and making an effort to work out their problems.
I had to wonder…if you really loved someone, would you have to work at it that much? It really seemed that things would be easier if you were truly in love. I mean, of course there would be occasional arguments and tiffs, but if you loved someone that much wouldn't their happiness mean more to you than your own?
We were sitting in a diner when this thought hit me again, for the hundredth time in the last few weeks. He was just taking a drink when my mouth worked without consulting my brain again, “Do you love him?”
“Of course.” He got the most baffled look on his face after he answered me. I couldn't help but think that it was one of the most adorable expressions I had ever seen on him.
Unfortunately, I had to push. “Do you?”
I waited, holding my breath, for several minutes. He stared at his food, his handsome face creased in serious thought. When he looked back up at me, I waited for him to speak. When he did, it wasn't at all what I had believed he would say. “How do you know when you love someone?” I just stared at him in total shock. I guess he thought I didn't understand what he meant, so he continued. “Have you ever loved anyone, Duo?”
Of all the questions for him to ask, he had to pick that one. Karma loves kicking my ass. I shook my head, putting my fork back on my plate, my appetite gone. “I've loved a few people, Trowa. Have I ever been in love? Once.” I could only hope that he wouldn't ask who.
“What's the difference?”
So I explained the best that I could. I told him about the differences, using what I felt for different people as a reference, hoping that he would understand. After that, I answered the questions that he had, somewhat in a fog. My brain had shut down some time during my explanation. Hopefully, I hadn't managed to give myself away.
Trowa fell silent for several minutes, allowing me to get a loose grip on reality. I took one look at his face and had to smile. He seemed so lost at that moment. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him everything would be alright. What I did instead was pat him on the hand, drawing his attention. “Give it some time and think about it, Trowa. You'll work things out.”
I went home that night, hoping I could put Trowa out of my mind. I knew that he really did love Quatre, and would try to make it work. I decided that it was way past time for me to stop putting my life on hold for a dream.
The next day, I called one of the guys I had dated a few times and set up a date with him for Wednesday, since he had Thursday off that week. Paul was an EMT driver and his schedule varied. Considering I didn't have to work, it was easy arrange the date.
I tried not to think about Trowa, I really did, but it didn't seem to work. He was always on my mind. I was always wondering what he was doing, where he was. The saddest thing was…I was more excited about seeing Trowa again on Saturday than I was my date with Paul on Wednesday.
Going about my normal business was harder than I would have thought. This week was just like any other, but I had to force myself to get up and go in the morning. Just because I didn't have to work didn't mean I was lazy, by any means. I always had plenty to keep me busy. I worked with the Sweepers sometimes, going on salvage runs on the colonies and in space. Occasionally, Une would pull me in to work with Heero and Wufei, if an assignment needed my expertise with breaking and entering or explosives. But if I had done any of these things, I probably wouldn't be back in time to see Trowa on the weekend. I was so pathetic. I was more worried about missing Saturday with Trowa than my date with Paul.
On top of that, I had my own small business, fixing up antique cars. As Trowa had once told me, if it had an engine, I could make it purr, no matter what shape it was in to begin with. While I should have been working on an old Camero, something that would be worth quite a bit when I was done with it, I could only sit in my garage, remembering the first car I had ever been hired to fix, coincidentally also a Camero. Of course, Trowa had been right beside me most of the time, working with me as we repaired the car piece by piece. At the end of the job, I had given him half the money I earned, saying that he had earned it just as much as I had. Now I couldn't do the work I needed to because it dredged up too many old memories. I eventually gave up and cleaned the house.
Wednesday came pretty quickly. The first half of the day, I puttered around my small house. It wasn't big like Quatre's or Relena's, and it wasn't fancy like the one Wufei had, but it fit me just right, much like Heero and his small apartment. I had looked for a long time to find this house, and it fit all the criteria I had. It had to be private, with a very good security system. I needed a garage already built on. I wanted a large shower. The most important thing was that I needed to be near the other pilots, mainly Trowa. Again, I'm really pathetic.
I had just finished getting dressed for my date when I heard someone at the door. When I opened the door and saw Trowa standing there, my heart leapt into my throat. With no idea what he was doing there, I invited him in and called Paul, postponing our date indefinitely.
When I returned to the living room with a couple of beers, I sat down and waited. I was surprised when Trowa started talking…and talking…and talking. In that time, I went through several emotions. Shock, sadness for Trowa, anger, shock again, and finally ending with despair upon learning that Trowa was in love with someone other than Quatre.
I tried to offer him a smile, but I could feel how strained it was. He gave me a strange look, then leaned over and kissed me. It took me a few seconds to figure out that it was really happening and not a dream, but once I did, I participated enthusiastically. I didn't realize I was crying until he pulled away from me, his eyes gentle. “How long?”
“Trust me, you don't want to know or you'll think I'm really pathetic.”
“Why didn't you ever say anything?”
How could I possibly answer that without sounding like a complete idiot? Should I tell him that I was scared that he wouldn't want me? Should I tell him that I harbored a hope that someday he would come to me? I decided to go with the easiest answer, and luckily was true, “You were with Quatre. It was enough just to see you every week. I probably would have never asked you about anything if I thought you were happy.”
He didn't move in right away, both of us preferring to take it slow. He stayed with me for a few days, sleeping in the guest room before he found an apartment that was a five minute drive away. Quatre helped him move, since I was still banned from the big house.
Three weeks after he moved into his new apartment, I realized that I missed him in my house. It was three o'clock in the morning when I called him to let him know that I didn't want to be away from him. His answer was a small sleepy smile when he agreed. We talked for a few more minutes and hung up. I tried my best to go back to sleep after that, but tossed and turned unable to rest.
Hearing the door open, I sat up in bed, hand creeping under the pillow for the knives that I still kept there. When I heard a soft voice announcing his presence from just outside my bedroom door, I nearly fell off of my bed in surprise, not an easy feat considering I have a very large bed.
I could only stare as Trowa rounded the corner, a pleased smile on his face. As I watched, he stripped his shirt, shoes, and socks off, leaving him clad only in a pair of sweatpants. He slid in the bed behind me, working an arm around my waist and pulling me down beside him. “What are you doing?”
“I didn't want to be away from you any more either. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I would put those lock-picking skills you taught me to use.”
There wasn't an argument from me as I snuggled closer into him, enjoying the heat that came from his body, loving the steady heartbeat under my ear. The next day, I went to his apartment and helped him pack up his things. He had to pay a large fee for breaking his lease agreement, but said it was worth it. I tried to pay him back, saying I never should have let him leave my home in the first place.
When we got back to what was now our house, he started to move his things into the guest room. I stopped him, arms around his waist. He immediately dropped the box he held, wrapping those long arms around me and pulling me as close as possible. “In our room, Trowa,” I said, my head resting on his chest. Sometimes I really hate being short…this was not one of those times.
Tilting my chin up, he placed a soft kiss on my lips. “Are you sure? You may never get rid of me if you let me in there.”
“I have no intention of ever letting you go, Trowa.” It was an honest reply that I didn't stop to think about. Maybe word vomit isn't always a bad thing. Smiling, he pulled me close again, both of us reveling in the contact for a long moment before releasing each other to finish mixing his belongings with mine.
Now, as he slides in the bed behind me, taking me into his arms, I can't help thinking that the best thing I ever had was most definitely worth waiting for. I still love being wrapped up by him, even eight months after he moved in with me. His voice was a content grumble in my ear, “I think the barbeque went well today, don't you think?
I turned over to face him, using my fingers to lightly trace the panes and angles of his face. “I think everyone had a good time. Did you have fun?”
“I liked watching you cook,” he was nuzzling my head with his nose, a contented noise coming from him that resembled purring. It's a sound he makes when he is extremely happy. Fortunately, I get to hear that particular sound a lot. “It was good to see you and Quatre talking again.”
“It was good to talk to him again. I missed blondie,” I was amused when he leaned back and raised his eyebrow at the nickname. Relenting, I gave him a small smile, burrowing farther into his embrace. “It'll take some time, but as long as he's willing to work with me, I'm more than happy to be friends like we were before.”
After all, there are some things in life that are worth waiting for.