Tuesday
Once again, Duo was tired and looking forward to a quiet evening at home. He had decided that he had overreacted the night before, letting his disappointment about not spending time with Trowa alone to overshadow time spent with his friends, not something he normally would have done. He always enjoyed the time with the other former Gundam pilots and was ashamed he had acted so childishly.
Wanting to prove to Trowa that he wasn’t a complete idiot, he opened the door with a smile, keeping it in place out of sheer will when he found Trowa preparing to leave the house. “Dinner again?”
“No. Some of the other agents are playing a game of basketball tonight and asked if we would like to join them,” Trowa explained with a smile. “I know how much you like basketball, so I told them we’d be there.”
Duo’s first reaction was to say no. His feet and back ached still and there were numerous scrapes and gashes on his hands from a rough day. Having played with a group of agents in the past, he knew they wouldn’t cut him any slack, yet the hopeful expression on Trowa’s face ultimately had him nodding his agreement, hoping this would make up for the way he had acted at dinner the previous evening. “I’ll take a shower after we get home, then.”
“Great,” Trowa smiled and seemed to be pleased that Duo had agreed. “We’ll get some take-out on the way home, my treat.”
Thinking longingly of the salad fixings in the fridge, the braided man trudged toward his room to change clothes. While he enjoyed being with Trowa, the constant activity and grease-laden diet from the last four nights were starting to get to him.
As he expected, the game was rough, agents shoving and elbowing each other, laughing about it the whole time. Used to the rough play, Duo was having a good time, able to ignore the pain he felt as they battled for the ball. His enjoyment disappeared when the agents began to throw insults around as much as they were their elbows, everyone seeming to turn on him in an instant.
At first, the insults were things he was used to being teased about, mainly about his size and hair. Those kinds of comments were easy for him to ignore, having been made fun of more than once in his life about those very things. When the insults began to grow more malicious, however, he didn’t appreciate the things said about him and his chosen profession. It grew even worse when Trowa joined in, belittling the work Duo found so satisfying, if not always exciting.
Without a word, he dropped the ball and walked off the court, finding the nearest bus stop and boarding the bus even as he heard Trowa’s voice calling his name. Rather than head in the direction of his home, he went the opposite way, needing to talk to someone.
Reaching his stop, he departed the bus and walked down the street; taking stairs up to the seventh floor of an apartment building he had spent a lot of time in, knocking on a familiar door and leaning on the wall in an attempt to get his feet to stop hurting.
When the door opened, a familiar head peeked out, finding the braided man instantly. “Duo, is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” he said immediately from habit, wincing when platinum blonde eyebrows lifted. “Okay, everything sucks. Have you got a few minutes?”
“I always have time for my friends,” the other man commented before letting Duo in and closing the door. “You look like you’ve been in a fight.”
Looking down at himself, Duo remembered the shorts and ripped t-shirt he wore, the addition of bruised and busted knuckles likely making him look like a thug. “I was at the gym. My hands are scraped up from work.”
“The work I can believe, but you being at the gym on a Tuesday? The idea is ridiculous. Like me, you prefer to save your activities for play on the weekend,” the other man said, leading Duo to the kitchen where he was offered a beer.
“I was playing basketball with Trowa and some of the guys he works with,” Duo paused long enough to gulp half the beer at once before blurting, “Do I seem stupid to you, Zechs?”
The man that had become a very close, if not the closest friend Duo had, gave him a look that reflected his opinion. “Of course you don’t. I’ve never thought you were stupid, though at times you can be impetuous and reckless.” Gesturing Duo back into the small but tidy living room, he urged the smaller man to sit on the couch, “Who said you were stupid?”
Clutching his beer, Duo didn’t argue when his shoes and socks were removed and his feet pulled into the other man’s lap. Hands that had been oiled dug into the balls of his feet, painful at first but quickly helping to ease the constant soreness. “No one said it, but it was suggested a number of times during the ball game. There were a bunch of other insults; like that I have hair too long for a guy.”
“There’s nothing wrong with long hair on a man,” Zechs stated with an exaggerated glance at the hair lying over his shoulder. Blue eyes fixed on Duo, “I happen to find it a very attractive feature, Duo. Few people have hair as beautiful as yours. That doesn’t explain why they insulted your intelligence.”
“It was mentioned that I must not be an agent because I wasn’t smart enough to pass the entrance exam. After that someone said that I must have opened a florist shop to make myself feel better because I’m not too bright.”
“In insulting you, they made themselves look like fools. You aren’t a florist; you own a greenhouse, one that’s very profitable and extremely popular. Clearly, having a traditional education hasn’t made them all that smart or they would own their own businesses rather than work for others,” Zechs mused softly, encouraging words from someone that knew all the details of Duo’s past.
“That’s nice to hear,” Duo shifted, wincing as his back protested the movement.
The tall man must have noticed the expression of pain because he shook his head, “Go lie down on the bed, Duo.”
Although he hadn’t had an education growing up, Duo was smart enough not to argue. Neither man spoke until he was face down on Zechs’ bed, shirt tossed on the floor carelessly. “Where was Trowa while his coworkers were making fun of you? Surely he would have been upset, had he known,” the blonde inquired as strong hands found each muscle that was tense with the ease of practice.
“Trowa was the one that said I had such small hands they were perfect for picking flowers,” Duo sighed as he remembered.
“That was the insult that hurt the most wasn’t it?”
“I guess it was. I thought he was my friend.”
“Wanting to be more than friends only made it worse, didn’t it?” Zechs didn’t wait for a reply before continuing. “I tried to warn you that living with Trowa could prove to be difficult.”
“You were right. I just don’t understand it. We’ve always gotten along great and I thought it would be nice to share a house with someone that was compatible, but I’m starting to wonder if we have anything in common at all.”
Since the pain in his back had finally begun to ease, Duo wasn’t surprised when Zechs’ hands moved to his calves and feet, “You should ask Trowa why he said such mean things to you. His reasoning might make sense once he explains it.”
“Then what do I do?”
“Nothing; take some time and see if living together will work. If things don’t get better, help him find somewhere else to go.” The firm touch suddenly disappeared, “Do you feel better now?”
“I don’t hurt as much,” Duo smiled as he rolled over and sat up, able to move with only a little pain. He didn’t have to elaborate that he felt better because of the advice as much as the massage, knowing Zechs would already be aware of the fact.
“Good. Would you like a ride home?”
Standing and pulling his shirt on, the braided man rolled his eyes, “If it’s not too much trouble.”
Zechs also stood, laughing at the wry comment. Grabbing his own shoes and shoving his feet into them while standing, he wiggled his eyebrows at the smaller man, “If things don’t work out with Trowa, I’d be more than happy to live with you. You know we’re compatible.”
After saying goodbye to Zechs, Duo walked up his sidewalk, shoes and socks clasped in his hand. He hadn’t even made it to the door when it was yanked open, Trowa staring at him for a moment before demanding, “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been waiting for you to get back.”
Good mood gone, Duo pushed his way past the other man, “I’m a grown man, Trowa. I come and go as I please.”
“You were with Zechs this entire time?”
“I needed a ride and he was willing to give me one,” Duo shrugged as he dropped his shoes by the door.
“Duo, I don’t know if you are aware, but Zechs has a reputation.”
“I guess I’m too stupid to listen to rumors, too,” the braided man retorted sarcastically. “I mean, obviously I’m so dumb I can’t get into the Preventers because of my lack of schooling. Thinking about it, I guess it’s a miracle I can even read or write.”
“No one said you were stupid. They were just joking, Duo.”
“That’s really funny; on second thought, no it isn’t. Jokes aren’t supposed to be painful reminders of your past, Trowa,” the American sighed as he went into the kitchen for another beer, knowing he would regret not eating the next day, but also aware he was too upset to eat, his stomach in tangled knots.
Trowa followed him, “What do you mean?”
Frustrated, Duo slammed the beer onto the counter, “I’ve never gone to school, Trowa. How could I? When you guys decided to join the Preventers, don’t you think I wanted to? Again, it was impossible. There weren’t any records that proved I was ever born and proof of your identify is required to become an agent. Quatre helped me with an official ID, but only because I needed it to open a business.” Snatching his beer again, he gestured with it, “Just so you know, I own a greenhouse, not a floral shop. I supply florists with their flowers, as well as do landscaping for several hundred businesses a year while still serving other customers.” Seeing that Trowa had no idea what to say, he breezed past the tall man, stopping at the door to offer a smug smile, “I also think you should know that Zechs’ reputation is well-earned. He’s an excellent and attentive lover.”
“How do you know that?”
“He was my lover for almost two years. It’s not something I’m likely to forget. Good night, Trowa.”