Kneaded 1

Disclaimer:  Not mine, don’t sue. 

 

Warnings:  Lime, eventual lemon, spoilers sorta (if you didn’t know that the boys lived)

                   In this fic, Endless Waltz never happened.

 

Pairings: 3x2 main, 5x6, possibly some others

 

Authors Note:  Drop me a line and tell me what you think, good, bad, or ugly!!  Feedback is always welcome!  Pretty, pretty please?

 

 

KNEADED – PART 1

 

Watching Duo from the corner of his eye, Trowa noted the wince every time his partner moved his left arm.  They had only been back at headquarters for a few hours, returning from a mission that had been a bit more complicated than anyone had anticipated, leaving them inadequately prepared.

 

When they had left that morning, the orders had been simple.  Observe the building for the third day in a row, the spying necessary to confirm that the group they were investigating was actually involved in activities that would shatter the peace the world had barely gotten accustomed to.  The group, Athletes for Peace, was supposed to be a group of athletes joining together to give aid to minority groups still suffering effects from the war.  What the Preventers network had uncovered, however, had revealed them to be amassing a large number of members that were not athletically inclined in any way.  The most disturbing discovery had been learning that the group was concealing a large number of mobile suits and weapons in the many buildings they had across the planet.  To prove this, Trowa and Duo had been sent to stake out the main building, taking the day shift while another team took the more boring night shift.

 

While Duo had complained about the assignment- loudly and often- Trowa had silently cheered the opportunity to remain close to his partner.  It was rare that he was able to spend time with Duo outside of work, and he enjoyed every chance he could get to remain with the exuberant American without having to worry about his feelings being exposed.

 

He didn’t know which of them had been more surprised when, two years after the final battle with Oz, both men had found themselves at the Preventers, finally taking up Une’s standing offer of a job within a week of each other.  The next shock had come when she had designated them as partners, stating that they would work well together.  Their contact during the war had been limited and usually strained, so it was a pleasant shock to learn that the Commander had been right, as she normally was.  Though uncomfortable together at first, they had established a smooth camaraderie that had quickly formed into a true friendship.

 

They worked well together, smoothly complementing each others abilities in the field.  It wasn’t long after they had begun working together on assignments that some of the other agents had started calling them the Preventers “A-Team” because of their high success rate.  Even Wufei had been forced to admit that the two of them were a formidable power.  Trowa hadn’t just been surprised he was able to work so well with Duo; he had been honestly stupefied by the occurrence. 

 

During the war, he had never really paid that much attention to the brash pilot of Deathscythe, believing the long-haired teen wouldn’t survive very long.  Upon hearing Duo had managed to shoot the infamous Heero Yuy, not once but twice upon their first meeting, he had thought it to be a crude joke. 

 

But after he had seen Duo Maxwell in battle for the first time, he hadn’t known how to classify him.

 

The ever cheerful, braided American that had a smile and a nice word for everybody had transformed when he took the controls of the black Gundam, turning into the God of Death…blazing a fiery path of destruction on the battle field and leaving behind a sea of ruined mobile suits and bodies…all while talking cheerfully to his teammates and laughing insanely. 

 

Trowa still hadn’t been sure how to handle the other teen, so he had avoided him when possible, rarely allowing them to be in the same room at the same time and never alone.  He had been bothered by the constant cheer and apparent lack of guilt from the pilot of Deathscythe, so he had been terse, short to the point of rudeness.  Duo had never complained about the treatment, seeming to laugh it off as he did everything.

 

After becoming partners, Trowa learned Duo felt guilt, loads of it.  Not only did the American feel guilt over the number of people that they had been forced to kill during the war, he also had a heap of survivor’s guilt.  Trowa had only learned this by chance when Duo had called in sick to work one day.  Since the braided man had never taken a sick day in the three years that they had worked together, he had grown concerned, going to the American’s apartment after work.  What he had found would stay with Trowa for the rest of his life.

 

After ringing the doorbell several times with no answer, Trowa had resorted to banging his fist on the door, more worried with every passing second.  Scenarios had flashed through his mind, the possibility that someone set on revenge always a possibility in their line of work – the threat made even greater by the roles they had played in the war. 

 

He had eventually gone to the manager, showing his Preventers badge to get a spare key for Duo’s residence.  When he had finally gained access to the small apartment, Trowa was unable to explain the emotions he felt as he looked around the shambles of the living room.  He pushed through the bottles that littered the floor, searching for his missing partner.  His concern continued to grow with every step as he took in the destruction he could see, looking like a small war had been waged in the space.

 

When he had finally located Duo, he had become frozen in shock, unable to comprehend the sight before him.  The American was lying in the middle of the small bathroom, blood staining his skin and the floor around his body, shards of glass scattered everywhere.  Believing the worst, Trowa had rushed in, taking Duo’s pulse, relieved to find it steady and strong.  He had picked his partner off the floor and put him in bed after locating the bedroom, then checked the slim body for injuries, trying to overcome his sudden hesitancy about touching the other man when he was unconscious. 

 

Eventually he had ascertained the blood came from numerous shallow cuts on Duo’s arms, face and hands, but was unable to tell if they had been accidental or deliberate.  The blood had been thinned by the alcohol in Duo’s system, evidenced in the many bottles and the smell of sour liquor on the braided man’s breath.  Trowa had briefly considered leaving, but decided to stay in order to watch over his partner.  After tending to his partner’s many wounds, he had cleaned the apartment up, wondering how long it had taken Duo to consume the large amount of alcohol and pondered what could have drove the happy man to such lengths.

 

When Duo had finally regained consciousness, Trowa had stayed, taking care of the other man without questions.  He had crouched by the braided man as Duo had lost the contents of his stomach, carrying him back to bed and making sure he had plenty of aspirin and coffee afterwards.  He had been shocked by the information Duo shared with him that night, still half inebriated but desperate for someone to talk to.  By the time Duo had went through his story of Solo and the Maxwell Church massacre, Trowa had been desperate for some alcohol himself.  He had held Duo while the other man cried tears of loss that had been a long time coming, stroking the long braid of hair in comfort.  That day had been the anniversary of the massacre, when Duo had lost the only two people he had ever thought of as parents.

 

Trowa had stayed at Duo’s apartment that night, unwilling to leave his partner alone in the drunken and depressed state he was in; not wanting to admit to himself how afraid he had been upon finding the other man and how awestruck he had been when learning of Duo’s past.  The next day, he had called Une’s personal number and explained the situation, getting them both two days off to recover from the previous evening and all the shocks and revelations that had came with it.  It wasn’t until Trowa was in his own bed late that night that he vividly recalled the way Duo had felt curled against him, how soft his hair and skin had been under Trowa’s hands. 

 

That had been the first night that Trowa had dreamed of Duo…but not nearly the last.

 

He slowly became aware that his feelings toward Duo were changing, and had been doing so for some time without him ever realizing it.  Where he had regarded the American with friendship before, he was now entertaining thoughts of …more.  He was pretty sure he had hidden his emotions well from his partner, not wanting to ruin the friendship that they had, but he couldn’t be sure.  Sometimes, he caught Duo watching him with an odd expression on his beautiful features, but it disappeared so quickly there was no chance to decipher it.

 

A grunt of pain brought Trowa out of his thoughts, and he looked over at his partner.  Duo was rubbing his shoulder, a grimace marring his features.  “I wish you would be more careful, Duo,” he spoke softly, knowing his words would carry in the confines of their shared office.  Sometimes, Trowa had to escape the room, the close proximity of the American driving him to distraction.

 

Duo smiled slightly, moving his hand from his hurt shoulder, and gave a half-shrug with his right one.  “You know me, Trowa.  I have to run in without thinking things out all the time, usually running into a major problem.  That’s what I have you for, to keep me out of trouble.”

 

Shaking his head, Trowa frowned as he remembered the stake-out from this morning.  They had been stunned when they saw a number people locked into a corner room of one of the upper levels of the building.  It had been pure luck that Duo had spotted the group of people through the use of an infra-red scanner, quickly informing Headquarters of what they had found.  Using a telescopic lens for the camera that Trowa took everywhere, they were able to get some pictures, running them through a picture recognition program, learning that every person they had managed to photo had recently been kidnapped and was being ransomed. 

 

Instead of waiting for a team to be sent in, Duo had infiltrated the building, managing to get all the captives out while waiting for a response from Headquarters.  Trowa had argued briefly, but had ceased when he saw the determined look in the intense violet eyes.  The only problem had been the discovery that one of the prisoners had been shot in both legs and had been unable to walk.  The best way for Duo to get the man out had been to carry him.  Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem since Duo still worked out often and had a strength that belied his slim frame, but the man had been severely obese, and the American had pulled several muscles in his arm and back while helping the captives escape the building.

 

In the end, all of the victims had gotten out and were grateful to Duo’s inventiveness.  Trowa was pleased that everything had turned out okay, but, “You should have waited for backup, Duo.”

 

The American lowered his eyes, his face flushing at the soft reprimand, “I’m sorry.  I just couldn’t stand the thought of them being trapped in there, helpless and waiting to die.”  His voice was soft, letting Trowa know he was remembering people in his past he had been unable to save.

 

Turning in his chair, Trowa regarded Duo across the expanse of their desks.  It amazed him how such a short distance could sometimes feel so far.  He waited for Duo to look up; wanting those violet eyes to meet his green ones, then smiled just a little, “Next time, will you at least wait for me?  We are partners, after all.”

 

Duo’s face registered shock for a brief second before he grinned, “I’ll try my best, but I promise nothing,” he snickered.  “Besides, if you hadn’t been outside to lead me, there’s no telling what could have happened.”

 

With a nod, Trowa returned to his work, glancing at Duo occasionally for a long time before he was able to lose himself in the reports that he needed to catch up on.  In the back of his mind, however, the braided man was always in his thoughts.  He knew his feelings had passed friendship over a year ago, when he had found Duo passed out in the floor, but now the attraction was becoming harder and harder to hide, and he feared that he was quickly growing obsessed. 

 

Trowa constantly wanted to know what Duo was doing, what he was thinking.  Did he go out on dates?  If so, did he go out with males, or females?  What did they do when they went out?  What would happen if he told Duo how he felt?  What would happen if he pushed Duo against the wall and took that mouth with his own, pushing his tongue inside to taste the other man’s flavor that he had been fantasizing about for so long?

 

“Are you okay, Trowa?”

 

He looked up with wide eyes, realizing that he had let out a groan, glad that he was sitting at a desk, where his erection would be hidden from sight.  He could feel his skin heat as he saw the concern in those violet eyes, “I’m fine, just tired.  Didn’t get much sleep last night,” he rubbed the back of his neck, not mentioning the reason he hadn’t got any sleep was because of erotic dreams of Duo plaguing him, yet again.

 

He watched in fascination as Duo blushed and looked down at his desk as if held the secret meaning of life.  “I’ve had nights like that,” he mumbled cryptically.

 

Anything else that could have been said was lost as Duo’s cell phone rang.  The braided man grabbed it, wincing as his stressed muscles protested.  With a groan of his own, Duo answered the phone, “Maxwell.”

 

He was silent for a long moment, a smile spreading across his features, his eyes twinkling with humor.  “Sorry, Q, I can’t make it tonight,” he said eventually, his voice expressing his sorrow at turning down the invitation.  Seeing that Trowa was watching, he rolled his eyes in amused exasperation.  “I’m gonna go home and ice my shoulder - pulled something earlier today.”  He listened for several more minutes with a smile, “Yeah, he’s right here, hang on.” 

 

Trowa stood and came around the desk, trying to keep Duo from straining anything else, as he hated seeing his partner in pain.  Taking the phone, he put it up to his ear, standing slightly behind the braided man’s chair.  “Hello, Quatre,” he said into the phone, waiting for the inevitable question.

 

“I’m having a small dinner party tonight, and was wondering if you would like to come.  Heero and Wufei will be here,” Quatre’s voice came through loud and clear over the connection, making it seem like he was in the next room instead of several miles away.  The Arabian didn’t wait for a response, launching into his next question without giving Trowa time to speak, “What did Duo do to hurt himself?  I thought you would be able to take better care of him.  Have you told him yet?  How long are you going to wait before you say something?”

 

Absently, Trowa shifted so he was holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, freeing up both hands to rub over Duo’s shoulder and back.  He wasn’t paying any attention to what he was doing as he tried to reply to all of Quatre’s questions.  “Okay, in order - I’m really tired, so I won’t be able to come tonight, either.  Tell Heero and Wufei that I said hello and I hope they are doing well.  He pulled it trying to carry a rather large man out of a building earlier today.  I really try to but it’s impossible unless I plan to tie him to his desk.  No, and most likely never in a million years for reasons you are already aware of.”

 

There was a long moment of silence before Quatre’s delighted laughter came through.  Trowa couldn’t stop the grin that formed, already knowing that the blonde wouldn’t waste any opportunity to fuss at him for not sharing his feelings.  It didn’t take long, “You need to tell him, Trowa.  What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

“We’ve already discussed this,” Trowa reminded gently of the many conversations they had shared about this very subject.  Quatre had known before Trowa that the feelings he had for the braided man had passed friendship, and had questioned him about it years ago.  At the time, Trowa had denied it, not understanding what he felt. 

 

“Let me ask you this, Trowa, and I want you to think about it very carefully.”  Quatre paused, obviously planning what he wanted to say.  “What’s the best that could happen if he says yes?  Is the possibility of being hurt enough to keep you from being able to share your life with him?  How are you going to feel when you get old and wonder what could have happened if you had found the courage to ask?”  Trowa sighed, wondering how many times he had asked himself the same question.  Quatre didn’t wait for an answer, “Could you make it out this weekend?  I would like for all of us to get together again.  It’s been a while.”

 

“I should be able to get there.  I don’t have anything planned for this weekend.”

 

“That’s great!  Tell Duo I expect to see him here then, too, and I won’t take no for an answer.  It’s been too long since we were all together.”

 

Trowa was about to reply when he heard the small moan from Duo.  In surprise, he looked down to see his hands kneading the stiff skin.  Duo’s head was leaning forward so he couldn’t see his eyes, but the small noises he was making sounded like he was enjoying the impromptu massage.  Belatedly, he realized that Quatre had already hung up without saying goodbye, as was typical for the Arabian.   With the phone still held at his ear as a prop, he continued the massage, reveling in the sounds coming from his partner. 

 

Taking a chance, he pushed his right hand under the base of Duo’s braid, rubbing the smooth skin he found at the neck of Duo’s shirt, causing the American to release a low groan, tilting his head as Trowa’s thumb caressed against the hard muscle at the side of his neck.  Trowa closed his eyes, his body tightening at the combination of Duo’s sounds and the feeling of heated skin beneath his hands.  When Duo suddenly whimpered, “Oh god,” Trowa’s half formed erection became painfully hard.

 

Trowa released his hold on the braided man, dropping the phone and retreating to the cover of his desk before Duo could see the ‘problem’ that had risen.  There were several minutes of silence before he cleared his throat, “Quatre expects us all to come to his house this weekend.  He said it’s been too long since we were all together.”

 

Receiving no reply, he forced himself to look at his partner.  Duo was staring at him with wide eyes and that indecipherable look on his face.  He shook his head and blinked as if coming out of a trance, “Um, ok I guess.”  Trowa had to look away when Duo spoke, his voice husky and low.  “I’m gonna go ahead and go home,” the braided man spoke slowly, his voice strained. 

 

Before Trowa could think of anything to say, Duo was up and gone, the door closing behind him with a soft snick.  He sat for a long time, attempting to control his body, something that had become more and more difficult lately.  He was finally making progress when he saw Duo’s jacket resting on the back of his vacant chair, immediately reminding him of the sounds Duo had made.  With a frustrated huff, he laid his head down on his desk atop his folded arms.

 

When the door opened, he didn’t even bother to acknowledge the person that had come in.  Whoever it was would make their presence known in time.  “Should I ask what you did to Duo, or did he do it to you?” a cultured voice queried, full of amusement.

 

Trowa raised his head to glare into the cool blue eyes of Zechs.  “Nobody did anything to anyone,” he sneered, then had a thought, “Why do you ask?”

 

Zechs chuckled lightly, coming to sit on the edge of Trowa’s desk, regarding the man with humor, “Because you both look like you’ve been beaten with an Aries while you were standing outside of your suit.  Duo rushed out of the building with wide eyes and blushing, nearly knocking me down, and then I find you with your head buried in your arms.  Do I need to ask what happened, or should it be obvious?”

 

“Nothing happened,” Trowa realized that he sounded as disgruntled as he felt.  It wasn’t that Zechs had noticed the strange behavior that they had shown that bothered him; it was the fact that anyone had been able to notice anything abnormal.  He had worked hard to control his reactions, and having it pointed out let him know that he wasn’t hiding it as well as he believed.  “It’s just been a long day, Zechs.  Nothing more and nothing less.”

 

“I heard about the daring rescue this morning.  That was good work.”  Trowa looked up, startled by the sincerity he could hear in the older man’s tone.  The blond shook his head at his surprise, his platinum hair flying around his face before settling again, “Why do you look so surprised whenever you get a compliment about your abilities?  Duo does the same thing when someone says he did a good job, always saying that it’s because you two are such a good team.”

 

Trowa could feel his face flush and averted his eyes, staring at his computer screen, “We are a good team,” he said softly, wishing it was true in more ways than one.  “Duo really deserves the credit for rescuing the kidnapped victims today.  He was hurt, though.  Pulled a number of muscles and was put on desk duty for a while by Sally.”

 

“That’s…interesting,” Zechs said slowly, a frown marring his elegant features when Trowa turned to look at him.

 

“What’s interesting?”

 

“When I asked Duo about this morning, he said that you really did all the work.  If it hadn’t been for you giving him directions and warnings while he was inside the building, he wouldn’t have been able to get the people out without someone getting hurt, or possibly killed.  At least that’s what he said,” Zechs voice was serious, but his eyes were twinkling with mischief.

 

Trowa was stunned by what Zechs had told him.  Was that really what Duo believed?  “But, I didn’t really do anything other than tell him when someone was coming.  He was the one that was in danger.”

 

Zechs sighed, raising a hand to rub at his forehead as if he was getting a headache.  “When are you going to stop dancing around each other?” he asked abruptly.

 

With wide eyes, Trowa froze at the exasperated question.  He turned away again in order to hide his expression, “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean how much longer are the two of you going to continue hiding the way you feel?”  Zechs was watching Trowa closely.  Trowa could feel the intent eyes on him, analyzing his reaction.

 

“And how many other people are aware of your suspicions?” Trowa knew that by just asking, he was validating the other man’s beliefs, but he needed to know.

 

A hand on his shoulder made him raise his head.  The older man was regarding him with sympathy, “As far as I know, only myself and Wufei.  Heero might wonder, but I don’t know.  We are more observant than normal people, Trowa,” he added as an apology.  “Why haven’t you told Duo how you feel?”

 

The overwhelming need to talk to somebody, anybody, washed over Trowa.  “I don’t know what to do, Zechs.  I don’t even know if he would consider having a relationship with a male.  We talk, but he never says anything about going out on dates or being attracted to anyone, so I don’t know if he prefers men or women.  I don’t think it would be possible for him to be gay.  It just seems so strange that all of us pilots would be, no matter how much I want him to be.  I just don’t know,” he let his head fall to his desk again, banging it lightly in his frustration.

 

“How long have you had feelings for him?”

 

“I don’t know.  It feels like forever, I just didn’t realize what I felt for a long time.  Then when I finally figured it out, I had no idea what to do.  Now, I’m just…lost.”

 

“I’m assuming something happened today,” Zechs stated slowly, crouching down beside Trowa’s chair.  “Something must have happened, because Duo looked like he was over-heating as he ran for the elevator.”

 

“I didn’t even notice I was doing it, not at first,” Trowa lifted his head and looked into the room blindly, in his mind seeing his hands against Duo’s skin.  “I was talking to Quatre on the phone, standing behind Duo.  It took me a few minutes to realize that I was massaging his shoulder and neck.  It’s been bothering him since we returned, and I wanted to help him, I guess.”  He inhaled deeply, then let the breath out with a shudder, “Oh, god.  He was making these noises…” he trailed off helplessly, looking at the older man for advice.

 

“What did he say about it?”

 

“Nothing.  I told him that Quatre wanted us all to come over this weekend, and he said that was fine, then that he was leaving.  By the time I looked up, he was already gone.”

 

“I’m guessing that you had a specific and telling reaction to hearing him make those noises?”  Trowa studied Zechs’ face closely, looking for any signs of humor, but found none, the other man’s eyes and expression serious.  He nodded in answer.  “Did you ever think that Duo might have had a similar reaction to you touching him?”

 

Trowa blinked, the possibility that Duo might have enjoyed his touch had never occurred to him.  He was so confused by all of this he really had no idea what to do, or think, or say.  The feeling of being so baffled was unfamiliar to him and he found it quite disturbing.  He suddenly recalled the look that had been on Duo’s face before he had fled the room.  Could it have been desire he had seen in those violet eyes?  Was it even possible that such a thing could be true?  Could Duo feel the same for him, not wanting to say anything for fear of ruining their friendship and partnership?

 

“What do I do?” he asked, suddenly willing to put his hopes in the hands of a man that had once been his enemy.

 

Zechs gave him an evil smile, the pale blue eyes shining with glee.  “I have a few ideas that might come in handy.”  Crossing his arms, Trowa sat back in his chair, listening intently to what the other man had to say.

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