by Jenn Abiding
"'You will receive an unexpected visit from an old friend.'" Duo looks up from the strip of paper in his hand. "Eerily prescient," he grins, then adds, "if I'd gotten this two days ago." He pops half the fortune cookie into his mouth, chews around his words: "You now."
Quatre breaks his cookie, pulls out his fortune. Turns it over, and over again. "It's nothing," he says.
"Go on," Duo cajoles.
"No," Quatre clarifies, "it's blank. No fortune for me." He smiles as he holds it up for Duo to see, twirling it between his fingers from one bare side to the other.
"Dude!" The other half of Duo's cookie disappears in an indelicate crunch. "That's the luckiest fortune of all! Means you get to write your own." He nods for emphasis as he chews, brow raised sagely.
"In bed?" Quatre's smile loses none of its sweetness, just a little of its innocence as he pushes his fortune across the table flush to Duo's, fitting them together almost seamlessly.
Duo kneels up between Quatre's legs, one hand wrapped around himself, fingers of the other hand stretchtwisting inside Quatre. Feels the heat in himself, his heated blood pulsing, pulse pounding in the cock in his hand, heavy in his blood, coiling heavy in his balls. Feels the heat on his skin, sweat-slick, slicked-up. Slides his fingers out, presses his head to the entrance, pushes just inside. Holds. Feels the pulse quivering around his head, tremblings too fine to be seen by the naked eye. Digs his fingers into the hipbone, soothes his hand along the spine, his eyes follow the curves and lines, the slight concave arch; his hand strokes down as his eyes glide up over sweat-slicked skin, gaze catching in damp curling tendrils of blond hair -
His gaze tangles in the curls. Gets tangled there and caught by the curls. Curls, even darkened with sweat, still terribly blond. He isn't frozen by the blondness, he's too hot to be frozen, but he hasn't moved, his cock still pressed, blood throbbing, just inside Quatre's entrance - the coils tighten in his sac, offshoots wend up into his belly as Quatre tightens around him, turns to look over his shoulder -
"We can't do this, can we?" Quatre says.
Duo holds still just inside him as they look at each other. Then he sits back on his heels, feels the loss as he slips free, slaps against himself. "You too?" Duo says. Quatre sighs as he twists, small brave smile on his face as he looks away for a moment, and Duo knows he's thinking about Trowa.
Quatre's careful not to hit Duo as he rolls onto his back, scissoring his legs so Duo still kneels between them. Still open to Duo. "I wouldn't mind," Quatre starts when he looks at Duo again, and Duo's pulse clenches hard in his balls, in his chest.
"Yeah, but." They came here to fuck the pain away; they didn't say it, didn't have to. They just came back to Duo's apartment, to his bed. They came here, Duo and Quatre, Duo and Quatre...
Quatre looks at him, gives him another of those smiles. "Yeah." Careful again as he swings one leg to the side to join the other, sits up.
"Yeah," Duo repeats. He can't help noticing Quatre is still hard; he isn't sure when he himself went soft. "Hey," he says, and maybe this is okay, because a brother can always help a brother out, right?, "you want a hand with that?" Flirtatious grin, downright saucy, really.
"No, it's okay," Quatre laughs. "I'll walk it off."
Duo stays on the bed as Quatre picks his jeans up off the floor and starts to pull them on. Duo can't put his finger on anything exactly wrong, but he feels a little uneasy watching Quatre's back as he dresses. He hesitates, then asks, "You want company?"
Fingers pushing the button through its hole, Quatre turns, gives Duo a brilliant and genuine smile, familiar; Duo lets it seep into his skin, reflects it back as Quatre says with his mouth what his eyes have already told Duo: "I'd like that."
The city is earthen tonight, grass and soil radiating aroma, enlivened by the downpour that had driven Duo and Quatre into a random Chinese restaurant earlier. When Duo feels Quatre slip an arm through his own crooked one, he looks down from the sharp slivered moon; their eyes meet as Quatre glances up from the flowering bush they're strolling past and smiles at him. Doesn't ask if it's alright like this, because of course it is, and Duo takes his hand out of his pocket to rest over Quatre's on his arm, natural. Like it's easy, like this all the time; like it could be; why couldn't it be, Heero?
'Fuck,' Duo thinks. Looks at the bright tiny stars, and laughs. He feels Quatre's hand squeeze his arm in gentle question. "Why are we so hung up on them? They're not here, they don't want to be; so why are we trying to make them be?"
"I'm not. I'm over Trowa; got over him awhile ago," Quatre says, so calmly that Duo finds it convincing - or would, if he didn't know Quatre so well.
"Man," he says to at least lighten the mood since he's in too deep to change the subject entirely, "why couldn't we just fall for each other instead?" Self-deprecating grin and he turns to wink at Quatre, to laugh at themselves together; and Quatre's turning away this time, and Quatre's not laughing this time; this time, Quatre doesn't have any sort of smile for him, not even a small brave one.
"Oh," Duo says as Quatre's hand slips away from his. "Oh shit, Q. I." Quatre bends to pluck a flower; his hand hovers, and then he only caresses the petals. "I'm sorry," Duo says softly.
"It's okay," Quatre smiles. That small brave smile again; Duo tries to think how long Quatre's been smiling at him like that, when it started. Tries to remember if this is the smile Quatre used to give Trowa, or if this is a smile Quatre's only ever given him. He doesn't know. He didn't pay attention to how Quatre smiled at him or anyone else; he never paid attention to how anyone smiled at him, except Heero...
He comes back when Quatre touches his face, tries manually to smooth his brow. Quatre's fingers are cool and damp from the raindrops lingering on the flower. "It's okay, Duo. Honestly. I just." Throat swollen, he stops talking, keeps soothing Duo with his fingers.
And there's that smile again. It spurs Duo to ask, "You just what?"
"I just don't want to lose you." Quatre almost chokes on the words, swallows and goes on, "Now that you know. Like -" And maybe he could've gone on more, but Duo doesn't make him, doesn't let him; pulls Quatre to him, wraps him up in a hug. Feels Quatre's arms go around him. "You won't lose me," Duo murmurs against Quatre's ear, "you'll always have me," strands of Quatre's hair clinging to his lips, cleaving to his tongue, but he doesn't spit them out, "love you, Quat." Quatre holds fast silently. Duo eases the embrace; hitch, and then Quatre lets go, lets Duo let go. "I do love you," Duo says, searching Quatre's face; his fingers want to reach for that face, but find their way to Quatre's shoulder instead. "You know that, don't you?" Quatre nods, and when he tries to move back in for the embrace, Duo takes back own his hand and lets Quatre come.
When Quatre's ready, they resume walking. After a few steps, Duo shoves his hands back in his pockets and nudges Quatre with his bent elbow. Quatre graciously shifts to allow Duo more room on the path. Duo pokes him again, looks over pointedly. Waggles his elbow until, returning Duo's wide grin, Quatre takes the proffered arm.
They wind their way through the park, find a bench dry enough to sit on, stargazing and reminiscing, and finally drifting into quiet companionship...
Then: "When were you going to tell me, Q.?" Duo's curious, unaccusing. "Were you waiting until after we did it?" Quatre looks at him, shrug and smile - and something in the smile reaches out and hits Duo. "Were you ever going to tell me?"
Quatre looks away. "I don't know. I guess I knew you didn't feel the same about me, and I." He shrugs again.
"Hey," Duo says. "Listen to me. You're not ever gonna lose me. Not even if you try, okay?" Quatre looks at him, can't help smiling back. Duo hugs him again. "You could never lose me by caring about me," he says earnestly, pulling back to make eye contact, "you know?"
Quatre nods with equal seriousness, before he breaks into a wry grin. "I guess we definitely can't do it now, can we?"
Duo returns the grin. Slings his arm around Quatre's shoulders and suggests, "How about sustenance and conversation, instead? There's this great place just a couple of streets over. Come on." He pulls Quatre to his feet. "It's not an orgasm," still smiling, Duo links his arm through Quatre's, "but the bubble tea's on me."