09-Aug-2005
Title: Crossed Wires 1/3
Author: Sol 1056
Rating: MA
Pairings: 3+4, 5+R, and 1+2, with caveats...
Warnings: Angst, but mild. I hope.
Notes: This is for Merith and Klingpoo, both of whom work too hard and need their happy endings, but in short packages so finding the time to read a story isn't an impossible task. Hopefully it satisfies. (Yes, I know I have longer stories awaiting updates, but I have the attention span of a gnat while getting ready to move... sorry.)
Over the years, Duo had made a list of all the things he disliked about growing up. At the top of the list were the earliest issues he'd encountered: bank tellers requiring thumbprints to deposit a check, landlords wanting a letter of employment, and remembering to take out the trash the night before rather than having to chase the garbage truck.
And there was the 'getting fined five dollars each time he lost his building badge', which had been a real annoyance until he learned to budget for losing a badge a month. Besides, he was getting to be good friends with the guys down in building security, and at least they now had his picture on file so he could just call down and they'd have a replacement waiting when he stopped by.
Unfortunately, for every thing that eventually came off his list of Problems With Being A Grown-up, something else got added on. The year he turned twenty-five, the newest issue was weddings. First he endured Trowa's and Quatre's wedding, followed a few months later by Relena's and Wufei's. And then Noin and Zechs returned from Mars, and promptly held a huge wedding, even though they'd been married civilly on the way to Mars about eight years before.
Duo figured the whole second-wedding was to make sure they could cash in on the same toaster ovens and matching dishtowel sets he'd seen on the lists from the other couples. What Quatre needed with a toaster oven, Duo had no idea. One had sat on the kitchen countertop for months and never been used, until one weekend he'd dismantled it to see how exactly it worked. He put it back together, and used the leftover parts to fix his motorcycle. The toaster never did work again, but the bike heated up quite nicely on cold mornings ever since.
Weddings weren't really a problem, and it wasn't like his friends had required tie-wearing, though he'd marked that down on the List of Bad Things - back at eighteen - and gotten over it. It was the fact that now they seemed to constantly be eyeballing his bachelorhood with a mercenary air, as if they were plotting to auction it off to the highest bidder. It made him nervous, and getting out of work soon felt like escaping to freedom. At least at the brownstone apartment he shared with Heero, he was safe from such ventures.
When he got home that overcast Tuesday, a few days after the most recent wedding - Sally and her fiancé, Robert, had taken their turn at the shindig - he wasn't surprised to find the phone ringing. Heero sat cross-legged on the sofa, glaring at the machine.
"Why isn't it picking up?" Duo hung up his coat and stood over the machine, peering at the flashing double-nines.
"Don't touch it." Heero shook his head. "I think we have to delete a few messages, though. Just don't take it apart to do that."
"Hunh?" Duo grimaced. "I wouldn't take it apart all the way. Just enough to—"
"Toaster oven," Heero snapped.
"Oh. Right." Duo fell silent as Relena's voice came over the line, calling out for one of them to pick up. Some old school friends were going to be in town, and wouldn't they like to... Duo wrinkled his nose. "At least let me figure out how to turn off the volume."
"I liked that toaster oven."
Duo leaned back to stare up at the ceiling. Relena continued talking. Duo's fingers stole towards the machine, and Heero growled.
"It was a gift from Relena."
"Fine, fine." Duo picked up the phone. "Hey, gorgeous! We just got in. Hold on, here's Heero." He tossed the phone to Heero - who plucked it out of the air, one-handed - and strolled from the room, whistling. He made a point of ignoring Heero's glare; he'd had enough years experience doing that, too.
In his room at the front of the apartment, Duo collapsed onto the bed for a moment before toeing off his boots. Wearily he undid his tie, sliding it from around his neck only to drop it on the bed beside him. The fact was that he'd gotten used to ignoring a lot of things from Heero, including the appreciative glances. But even those hadn't been such a bother, once he got used to them.
It was just the way things were. Even with two incomes, they could barely afford the apartment in the city, but they both liked being close enough to walk to work if they wanted. They went out less and less as they gained promotions, but it was still nice to be in the heart of things. Sharing an apartment was a good investment, and they'd done the paperwork right from the top so if one of them wanted to move on, the other could buy the first out. Or they'd sublet, if they both moved and didn't sell. It'd been a big thing - and all that paperwork had gone on the List of Bad Things - but it was far less bad, doing it with a good friend, than it would've been had Duo tried it on his own.
That was, until Duo took one message too many from some guy named Alan, and finally asked Heero straight up who the guy was. He'd not meant anything in particular; he'd just been curious why Heero always went to hang out at Alan's instead of bringing him back to their place. And then Heero had dropped the unexpected on him. Heero was gay.
Duo had taken a deep breath, processed the information, decided it had nothing to do with him, and life had gone back to normal. That was, until Hilde dumped him for refusing to transfer to L2. She was tired of the long-distance relationship, but Duo didn't want to take a fifty-percent cut in pay and a demotion to transfer off-planet. At the same time, Heero dumped Alan, muttering something about not wanting to move to the suburbs, but since Duo had never met the guy, he wasn't sure of the real issue, and wasn't positive he wanted to ask. That's when it got complicated.
Heero had started looking at Duo. Nothing overt, just quick glances, and they did seem to be spending more time together, which at first Duo had chalked up to the fact that they were both free, and more than a bit heart-broken, it seemed.
Finally one afternoon - about two years before, perhaps - Duo had set his drink down on the counter, while Heero cooked, and asked.
"Heero," he'd said, startled at how loud his voice seemed in the open kitchen, in the center of their apartment, "do you have a crush on me?"
The only answer was a sudden clatter of wooden spoon on a metal pot, and Heero's shoulders stiffening. Then, slowly, cautiously, Heero nodded, but only once.
"Oh." Duo sipped his drink, and tried to figure out what to say next.
"Does it bother you?" Heero's voice, remarkably, sounded steady.
"I guess not. I mean... " Duo sighed, and shrugged. "No. Not really. It's, uh, actually kind of complimentary. If you know what I mean."
Heero chuckled, a soft, almost plaintive sound. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. But after... " He shook his head.
Duo had learned enough over the years to fill in the spaces, or at least to be willing to offer his interpretation of the silence. Heero's shoulders always relaxed, just a touch, when Duo would finally stumble over the right words. So Duo settled down onto the stool by the counter, and began trying to figure out his friend's point of view.
"After what's-his-face," Duo began, "you're not willing to meet new people?"
Silence, but for the sizzling of vegetables in the pan.
"Um... don't want to get your heart broken by a stranger?"
Heero's grip on the spoon relaxed a fraction, and the line between his brows appeared, then disappeared. He opened his mouth, scowled, and closed his mouth. Still no words, obviously.
"I'm... safe?" Duo rolled that thought around in his head, even as Heero nodded, sighing.
Duo wasn't sure if he wanted to be safe, but it did make sense. He'd started tentatively flirting with Lola up in Purchasing, even though she was happily married with two kids. Their photographs, toothy grins and big eyes, confronted Duo every time he swung by Lola's office. It was just that after Hilde's abrupt ultimatum - and after a bit of licking his wounds - he still wasn't ready to brave the waters. He just wanted reassurance that he wasn't ugly or boring after four years with the same woman, however long-distance that might've been.
So maybe that was all Heero wanted: someone to appreciate, someone to maybe have a few daydreams about, but someone that wouldn't up and stomp on his heart like a plastic toy trampling downtown Sanq in a grade-B movie. Duo spent a few days considering that, mulling over the idea of his apartment-mate ogling his body, maybe fantasizing about him while in the shower, and decided that it really wasn't an issue. What was he going to do, get indignant about the fact that he wasn't getting any fun out of being an object of someone's fantasy?
And really, it was flattering. With casual glances and the return of their usual banter, he'd let Heero know it was okay. Maybe he needed the flattery as much as Heero needed the safety. Neither of them was in the best shape, after all, and they could probably use a bit of blowing off steam. Duo flirted with Lola up in Purchasing, and Heero flirted with an illusion of Duo in his own mind.
For a year or so, that's where it'd stood, until suddenly everyone around them started getting married. Then Duo and Heero became everyone's newest pet project, and Duo could feel the walls closing in: let's get the last two bachelors married. Duo just wasn't sure he was quite ready for another long-term relationship; he'd become more than happy with dating here and there. If it didn't work out, no problem. He'd just head home, where Heero would be sitting up with yet another complex coding puzzle, and as long as Duo came through the door with a new movie and a six-pack of beer, Heero would put away the laptop and join him.
Life was still safe.
Duo stretched, and sat up from the bed, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. The phone calls were picking up, and he had the strangest gut feeling something was about to change. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it bothered him. Tossing his work shirt onto the dry cleaning pile - a chore that registered number seventeen in the List of Bad Things -- he dug around in his dresser for a beat-up sweat shirt. Maybe he'd do some fiddling on his bike before he had to start dinner; he was sure Heero would be up for dismantling the distributor cap.
But when he wandered back into the living room, Heero was gone. A note lay on the kitchen countertop - 'going out for dinner, be back late', in Heero's angular handwriting. Duo raised his eyebrows at that, then figured Relena had talked Heero into meeting someone. He tossed the note in the trash, pulled a beer from the fridge, and was about to head down to the building's basement parking garage when he saw the answering machine. Its lights still flashed, and his fingers itched.
Well, it couldn't hurt to at least look at the infernal machine for a few minutes...
Heero came home to find Duo asleep on the sofa, three empty beers on the coffee table, and the remains of the answering machine scattered across the low table's metal surface. He shook his head in disgust, and thumped Duo on the bottom of one socked foot.
"Asshole. You broke our answering machine." Heero glared when Duo rolled over onto his back, squinting at Heero. "The machine. What did you do to it?"
"Not sure yet," Duo drawled. He snagged the blanket off the back of the sofa and rolled over again, pulling the blanket over his head. "Figure it out tomorrow," came the muffled words.
"You're paying for a new one if it doesn't work," Heero warned, but the only response was Duo's hand snaking up from under the blanket to flip him off. Heero snorted, and turned off the lights before heading to his room at the back of the apartment.
Closing the door behind him, he hit the switch for the lamp by his bed. Slipping off his shoes, he pulled his shirt over his head, sniffing it suspiciously before deciding it could make it through one more wearing. He disliked going down to the basement to do laundry. It was such a tedious job; besides, he couldn't get a connection to the 'net all the way down in the building's belly.
Heero padded across his room to settle down on his bed, lying sideways across it, with his hands tucked behind his head. Relena had coaxed him out with the usual arguments about trying to get out, getting over Alan - prove you're over him, she'd challenged - and Heero had finally given in. He'd never had much strength against her obstinacy, but the problem was that now everyone seemed to be wise to that. If they wanted Heero to do something, they just asked Relena to demand it. He snorted and rolled over on his side, grabbing the nearest pillow and curling up on top of the covers, half-dressed.
Technically it was a blind date, if a seemingly last-minute one, though he doubted Relena or Wufei could do last-minute. Well, Wufei, perhaps, but only with a great deal of planning to allow for that last-minute change. What had startled Heero the most was how well his friends must know him, to have picked someone so... he couldn't think of a word.
He frowned, trying to settle the quivery feeling in his stomach, but after a minute let the feelings ride through him and subside on their own. Thomas was a bit taller than Heero, though not quite as tall as Duo; muscular, intelligent, a med student. He knew Wufei and Relena through Sally. Hair almost as blond as Relena's, but with a coppery tint, loose curls pulled back in a ponytail. Warm, brown eyes - Heero made a point of noting people's eye colors, and he liked Thomas'. He'd also been surprised at how much it helped to have Wufei and Relena there; they knew what to say, when, to keep the conversation going, and it was their fault - or credit - that he now knew so much about Thomas, or that he'd spoken as much as he had around someone unfamiliar to him.
Heero smiled to himself. Thomas had suggested the orchestra on Friday night, and Heero suspected Relena had mentioned that was a favorite indulgence. Thomas had touched him lightly on the elbow when he'd asked, as Heero put on his coat, and Heero had found himself staring at the man's lips. Damn, had it been a year since he'd dated? Was he out of practice? He didn't have a lot of experience, but enough to know when to get nervous.
He rolled over and sat up long enough to turn off his bedside lamp, and fell back across the bed, stomach flip-flopping too much to bother getting undressed. He'd get up in a minute and do that, along with brushing his teeth and getting a drink of water before bed. It took a few more minutes of going over the evening's conversations in his head, before he got up and shuffled out of his room and into the main living area. Duo was a dark shape on the sofa, and Heero paused, listening to Duo's easy breathing. Seven years before, Heero just clicking on a light in his own room would have Duo wide awake, knife in hand, at the other end of the apartment - and Heero would wake up with one hand seeking his gun if Duo just rolled over in bed in his own room.
How much they'd grown, and settled down, and grown up. It pleased Heero, to be able to recite the things he did on a daily basis that meant he'd become an adult. He did his own bills, knew how to balance a check book, paid for his subway pass each month, and just a few months before had finally done all the research and created a retirement fund for himself. Picking out dishes with his annual bonus check had been nerve-wracking, but fun, despite Duo trailing along behind him and muttering dire threats about growing up.
But now he had one more thing on his list of adult responsibilities, and Heero hesitated, not sure how he'd broach it to Duo. Finally, after brushing his teeth, washing his face, and getting a drink of water, he decided it could wait. He'd just met Thomas, after all; maybe he was jumping too fast. Duo would probably be pleased to hear he wasn't the source of Heero's fascination, any longer.
Heero sighed and set the empty glass in the sink. It was his turn to do dishes, so he could let it sit. He'd have to do them first thing after work, though, or Duo would swoop in and do them all, the same way he'd clean the bathroom if he thought it had been more than twenty-four hours since bleach had been introduced to the tiles. Heero smirked. Duo was a closet clean freak, except when it came to machinery parts.
Duo shifted on the sofa, rolling over to present his back to the room, and his braid slid out from under the blanket to thump against the floor. Heero paused again, staring at the coiled rope of hair, and for a moment he contemplated holding it, running his fingers across the patch of skin at the base of Duo's neck where the skin was paler because it never got sun, or the way Duo smelled like peppermint after a shower, and grease after a day working on his bike.
No, now he could put those ideas aside. He'd have to. Duo had been a gracious friend, willingly looking the other way while Heero entertained thoughts of what would never be. Duo's word: safe. He'd been right. Heero always knew Duo would be there, and he didn't have to be lonely in the apartment, licking his wounds after Alan's final cruel words. He couldn't have what he wanted, but for a while, he'd been able to pretend. Anything more than that, he couldn't have handled. But that was soon to be in the past, if Thomas' actions and words were any sign. Yes. Duo would be glad to hear of it, and glad to know he could go back to streaking from the bathroom to the bedroom on cold winter mornings when he'd forgotten to hang up clean towels.
Pleased, Heero made his way to bed, and did his best to dream of curly hair and brown eyes and the orchestra. In the morning, he was quite certain he'd not once lapsed into faint whispers of an L2 drawl, deep blue eyes, or high cheekbones smudged with grease.
Duo's first realization that something had changed was coming home on that Friday - movie and beer in hand - only to find Heero in the bathroom, shaving. A towel hung low around his hips, and Heero gave Duo a distracted nod before wiping off his face and heading back to his room.
"Yo," Duo called after him. "What's the occasion?"
"Orchestra." Heero appeared in the doorway with two shirts. "Blue or black."
"I dunno. Black." Duo shrugged and set the beer in the fridge. "Wufei slack out and Relena need a date?"
"No, uh... " Heero's voice faded, then came back as he reappeared, tugging the black shirt down and tucking it into a pair of dress slacks. "I have a date."
Duo nearly dropped the beer on the fridge's shelf, startled, but managed to keep a grip out of sheer reflex. "A... date?"
"He's a friend of Wufei's and Relena's." Heero sat down on the sofa, pulling on dark socks. "He's a pre-med student at the university."
"Does this friend have a name?" Duo busied himself rearranging the fridge's top shelf, to make more room for the beer.
"Thomas Jenkins."
"Ah, yes, the Jenkins, a fine upstanding Sanq family." Duo leaned against the countertop, grinning as Heero looked up with a surprised expression. "Joke," Duo drawled, rolling his eyes. His grin only grew wider when Heero stood up, brushing off his slacks and straightening his shirt for the third time. "So what else about this guy?"
"He used to compete as a cyclist," Heero yelled from his bedroom. He brought out his shoes, inspecting them carefully.
"I can see my reflection in those shoes from here," Duo told him. "You don't need to polish them."
Heero frowned, rubbing at the toe of one shoe.
"Christ on a popsicle stick," Duo burst out, somewhere between amused and chagrined. "What's going on? You're as nervous—"
"Am not."
"I just saw you lick your thumb and polish your shoe with spit. I'd say that's nervous."
"There was a bit of dirt."
"Dude, I don't know how it works with guys, but with girls if it's going well, the last thing they care about are your shoes." Duo broke off at the sight of Heero's cheeks turning pink, and he gaped for a second before deciding withdrawal might be the better part of discretion. "Well, I'm gonna go change and order a pizza so it's here when I get out of the shower. You... have a good time tonight."
"Thanks." Heero ducked his head, looking away, another odd mannerism Duo hadn't seen Heero do in a year or more. After a minute they both seemed to nod, some unspoken accord reached, and Heero moved out of the way to let Duo past.
It was only after Heero had left, and Duo had ordered dinner, taken a shower, and settled down on the sofa to watch his movie - only then did it really sink in. Duo stared down at his third slice of pizza, and set it back in the box. Gathering everything up, he didn't bother to pause the movie while he puttered in the kitchen, putting the box in the fridge and leaving a note for Heero in case he got home hungry.
For another ten minutes, Duo was buoyed by a strange hope that Heero had ended up having a boring, horrible time with this mysterious med-student, this Thomas Jenkins. Perhaps Heero would come strolling in around ten-thirty, since the orchestra always ended around ten. That would be the time Heero would get in if he'd been out with Relena for the evening.
But ten-thirty came and went, and Duo sipped his beer, watching the movie with only half his attention. No footsteps on the stairs, and no key in the lock. The movie ended, and he switched over to news, flipping the channels idly. He'd finished his beer and it was eleven-thirty, but he stayed put for another half-hour. Midnight. Sighing, he got up from the sofa, put everything away, and checked the clock.
Fifteen after twelve. Of course, there were dishes in the sink, and that couldn't be left overnight. He was wiping his hands on the dishtowel when the clock on the microwave read twelve-thirty. Duo stared at it, then shook himself. Heero was out, on a date, and here he was waiting up for Heero like he was fifteen. Hell, at fifteen they'd been out all night blowing up government bases. Heero was an adult, and a lethal one at that, even if his days were spent attacking server viruses instead of perps.
Duo clicked off the light, but left on the light over the kitchen sink. Wandering through the empty apartment, he took another fifteen minutes to spontaneously clean the bathroom - after all, Heero and showered, and then Duo, and it hadn't been cleaned since - but still no sign of Heero. Almost one in the morning.
He slipped into bed, picking up a book he'd borrowed from Trowa on combustion engines, and tried to get comfortable. But tree branches scraping against the front of the building made him think of footsteps, and for each sound he'd sit up, glancing towards his open door where he could see the broad stretch of their living room, and then to Heero's door. Nothing.
It was starting to get aggravating, Duo groused, and sank down further in the bed, propping the book up across his knees. There was no reason he should be irritated that Heero was out with someone. This was supposed to be a moment of pride, as a friend - no matter what gender Heero liked - because it meant Heero had finally gotten over that jerk, whatever his name had been.
Okay, so he was glad for his friend. It was good that Heero be dating again, but Duo realized he hoped nothing else had changed. They'd still have nights of watching movies and ridiculing the unrealistic explosions and bad gun handling, and they'd still meet up for lunch and complain about corporate meetings at Preventers.
And they'd still trade off on chores, except when Heero thought cleaning could wait for another three hours while Duo knew it couldn't. It was just that now Heero might not be there on some nights, but that was okay. As long as it wasn't too often, Duo figured he could live with that. He'd put up a really boring night, once or twice a week, if it were for something that made Heero happy.
After all, what were friends for?
End Part 1
(:./sol/crossed1)
