Disclaimers: They’re not mine, no matter how much I wish they were.
Pairings: 3x2 and lots of it
Warnings: Yaoi, extreme lemon, and total smut
AN: This has not been beta’d for me, so if you find any massive errors, let me know. Enjoy!!
I’m tired of travelling, tired of wandering the universe…for now, at least. That wanderlust is something I can’t seem to get out of my system and since there’s no reason for me to stay in one place any longer…I stopped fighting it. I tried to, once. I tried to fight the desire to be on the move, attempted to ignore the pull to discover new places because someone asked me to stay in one place. My sacrifice was pointless and proved it’s best to do what you want rather than do what others want.
After six years I’ve learned that when I think I’ve finally seen everything I find something new, whether it’s a colony, a satellite, a moon, or a new location on Earth; I can always find something. I’ve been traveling almost constantly during that time, never staying more than a week in one place before moving on to the next.
I’m glad for the funds I siphoned during the war; that money allows me to keep moving, keep leaping from place to place. I don’t travel in the lap of luxury. As a matter of fact, I travel as cheaply as possible so I can keep going as long as I can, which is why I have no idea where I am after disembarking a shuttle owned by a small family of spacers, where I earned my fare by repairing some old wiring, keeping them from having to pay a small fortune to hire someone when they reached port.
Once I figure out where I am I’ll see if I can find somewhere to stay for a few days, maybe even a week or two. After a cursory glance around, I approach two teenagers, sizing them up as they do the same to me. Something about me seems to tell them I’m bed news, not one to tangle with. Neither tries to stand as I near, both going for the same laid-back nonchalant air that signifies I don’t concern them, yet their eyes are wary. “Where am I?”
“You got amnesia or sumptin?”
The chuckles die out as I watch them steadily, wondering what they see in my eyes. “Where am I?” I repeat, lower this time, realizing how very weary I am. It could be the surroundings rubbing off on me, however; this entire place seems threadbare and worn, well past its prime.
“You in da slums. Way outta yer own territory,” the talkative one of the pair tells me, his hand moving slowly toward his boot. So far his companion hasn’t spoken, although his eyes are watching me intently.
I have no doubt I could take them both out without breaking a sweat; I was trained to kill. Shifting slightly I warn, “Don’t do it. You aren’t fast enough. What colony?”
The hand moves away, both pairs of eyes more wary than before. “L2.”
This is a surprising development. Wondering if my old comrade is still somewhere in this hell, I keep my eyes alert, recalling the warnings of his home. “Know a guy named Maxwell?” It’s a long shot; what are the odds against finding Duo the first time I land on L2. The flash of interest has me pulling some credits from my pocket, wondering if I’ve been lucky for perhaps the first time in my life, “Long braid, purple-blue eyes?”
The teens are practically salivating as the stare at the money I hold. Considering where we are, it’s probably more than they’ve seen at one time. One of them, the same one that gave me attitude before, suddenly grins at me, his eyes alight. “You must want this guy pretty bad. We might be able to tell ya where he’s at, for two-hundred.”
With a shrug, I shove the hundred dollar credit back in my pocket and walk away. Within minutes I’m aware of the two shadows following me. Feigning stupidity, I spy an alleyway and walk into it as if I’m lost, unsheathing the blade from my own boot, pleased I never got out of the habit of being armed at all times. It’s almost comical to see the looks of surprise on their faces when they discover me waiting, knife glittering in the dim lighting. "Change your mind?”
The decision only takes seconds, “We’ll tell ya, man. Hundred creds.”
“Take me there, and we’ll make it one-fifty.”
“We gotta problem, ‘cause I ain’t takin’ you nowhere.” I’m not at all surprised that the same teen speaks that has done all the talking thus far. Apparently he thinks of himself as the spokesman, or possibly the other boy is simply shy.
“Then we have nothing to discuss.”
The teen frowns as the other boy gestures at him. I shake my head, able to guess what’s being communicated. “You can try to take what I have. You’ll fail. One-fifty and you take me to Maxwell. I’m not giving you money so you can tell me whatever you want, likely sending me into an even worse area than this.”
Another moment of deliberation passes, the teens trading more gestures and words in a silent language they seem to understand. They both eventually nod at me, holding their arms out as if to direct me. “I’ll follow you, just in case you get any wild ideas.” I’ll be stunned if they manage to take me to my past teammate; this is a large colony system and the chances of them actually knowing where Duo is are slim.
Despite the rough beginning, they successfully lead me to an apartment building on the outskirts of the area. Some of the windows here even have flower pots on the window sills, an attempt at building a nice home in spite of the continuous wars I’ve heard are waged on the street between gangs. “This the right place?”
“Yeah. Maxwell been crashin’ here ‘bout four years. Was supposed to be some big hotshot in the war. Nice enough guy.”
Hoping they haven’t taken me to the wrong place, I pull out the credits, holding out a hundred for each of them. When they stare at me I nod to let them know I’m not kidding. “I really hope you didn’t lie, because if you did, I’ll find you and get this back in some way.”
The teens wisely take the money and run. I overhear the talkative one make a comment about how he’ll be able to feed his family for a month and shake my head. It’s not how I assumed the money would be spent. When they’re gone, I look up at the building again. It’s simple, as most apartment buildings are. There are no names on the mailboxes in the lobby, so I use another tactic to locate the man I’m looking for.
I don’t know Duo well, but I know which apartment I would choose if I had one. On the top floor, I look for the apartment closest to the stairs and with a window nearby. Using this criterion, I have two doors to choose from. The one on my right is my first guess, so I choose the apartment on the left, assuming Duo is as much of an enigma as he was before.
After I knock, I glance at my watch and realize I have no idea what time it is. Each colony runs on separate times, much like time zones on Earth and I can’t recall the last time I set my watch. The false lights outside are dim, so it could either be early morning or late night.
Hoping I’m at least in the right building, I’m tense until the door opens, revealing the man I was looking for staring back at me with a stunned expression. An instant after he opens the door, he steps back and gestures me inside, closing the door behind us. It’s obvious he was asleep, dressed in a pair of boxers, hair mussed slightly and his ever-present braid unraveled. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I have no idea what time it is.”
He yawns widely, yet manages a smile. “About five in the morning. What brings you here, Trowa?”
It abruptly dawns on me I’ve come to someone I barely know to ask for place to stay. The idea is suddenly ludicrous. “I should go.”
“Go where? This isn’t the kind of place you want to go looking for a hotel room if you don’t know the area.” He gives me another tired smile, “It’s late, or early, depending on how you look at it. I doubt you came for idle chit-chat.”
The way Duo gets to the heart of a matter has always amused me and my lips reluctantly curve a tiny fraction. “I found myself on the colony and was wondering if I could sleep here for a few days.”
If he’s surprised it doesn’t show. “Sure. The couch folds out or you can sleep with me. Take your pick.”
The offer isn’t made with any sexual connotation. It’s too casual for that and it’s an offer I’m willing to take him up on. “I’ll sleep with you tonight. I don’t feel like folding out a couch.”
“Follow me.”
I do as he says, taking a quick survey before he flips the lights off, seeing that the apartment is small but tidy. There is a light on in another room, one I assume is the bedroom as we head for it, already able to imagine what a night sleeping on another person’s bed is going to feel. After sleeping on hotel beds or ship bunks, I’m looking forward to it.
His bed is large, taking up most of the space in the bedroom. He doesn’t act like a gracious host or anything, crawling into the bed closest to the dingy window and pointing a long finger after another yawn. “Bathroom is the next room. Turn the light off when you lay down,” he adds, indicating the lamp on what will apparently be my side of the bed.
By the time I get back from changing clothes in the bathroom and brushing my teeth with the oddly metallic tasting water, Duo’s already asleep again, not moving when I get into bed and turn the light off.
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