This Happens Every Year
Duo smiled and waved to Trowa as the young man walked into restaurant
and took a seat across the table from him.
"I'm sorry I'm late." Trowa apologized. "The traffic was terrible."
"Usually is this time of year." Duo agreed. "I ordered a bottle of
champagne." he explained as the wine waiter arrived with it I hope
you don't mind."
"Not at all. It was thoughtful of you." Trowa smiled, then leaned
forward to give Duo a thank-you kiss.
Duo returned the kiss, then kissed Trowa even more deeply. "I love
you, Trowa-kun." he whispered.
Trowa felt his heart skip, like it always did when that violet-eyed
angel spoke those words, words meant for him and him alone.
"I love you, too, Duo-kun."
The two of them gazed into each other's eyes as they sipped their
champagne, each as captivated and captivating as they had been that
night all those years ago.
"This is the same champagne." Trowa realized.
Duo nodded. "Well... different bottle..."
Trowa laughed. "Yeah. But same make, same year..."
"Same restaurant." Duo added.
"Same table." Trowa waved a hand over it, like a magician displaying
a card fan.
"Something's different, though." Duo smiled. "Ah. I see what it is."
he took hold of Trowa's left hand smiled at the gold band around the
ring finger. "This wasn't here last time." He kissed Trowa's hand,
softly, before releasing it, and looking down to examine his own
ring, the twin of the one Trowa wore.
"....sixteen... seventeen..." Trowa chuckled.
"I do not have that many!" Duo pouted. Truth was, he did have more
grey hairs than he would've wanted, but he didn't feel like ruining
his hair with gels or dyes. "Besides," he gently fingered the greying
hair at Trowa's temples, "look who's talking." he kissed Trowa again,
this time adding, "Happy Twenty-Fifth Anniversary, Trowa."
"Happy Twenty-Fifth Anniversary, Duo." Trowa replied.
"Heh..." Heero came up to their table at this point, looking very
drunk. He waved to them, tried to wish them a Happy Anniversary, and
collapsed in a sobbing heap on the floor that was so unlike the
Perfect Soldier they'd once known.
But that had been a long time ago..
"Here we go again." the happy couple nodded to each other.
"This happens every year." Trowa pointed out as he and Duo carried
Heero out to their car, stopping just long enough to pay for the
champagne.
"I was married, you know." Heero slurred, talking to Duo ask Trowa
drove to Heero's apartment. "I killed him. I killed my little Quatre.
I didn't mean to... I didn't know he was so fragile. I didn't..."
Duo stroked Heero's hair while the other man sobbed in his sleep.
Quatre's death had been a tragedy. The young aristocrat had married
Heero and then had died on their wedding night, despite the fact that
Heero had been tender, of an unexpected and unexplained heart attack.
Duo and Trowa stayed with Heero that night, as they had every year
when this happened. The put him to bed, then went to watch TV on the
sofa.
Soon, however, the TV was forgotten as Duo lowered Trowa back onto
the sofa and stretched out on top of him, playfully licking at his
face like a kitten and stroking his manhood until Trowa was laughing
and moaning at the same time and happiness was in his eyes. Then, Duo
slipped off Trowa's pants and his own and, pausing only to pull a
bottle of lubricant from his pocket, he began to carefully prepare
Trowa for a night of lovemaking.
Trowa gasped with pleasure as Duo's fingers caressed his inner flesh,
brushing against that elusive spot deep within him until he was on
the verge of orgasm. Then, they were withdrawn. Trowa looked up into
Duo's violet eyes, as they drew nearer, his heart racing with
physical, emotional, and spiritual joy as Duo carefully entered him
and made love to him with a curious combination of playfulness and
tenderness until Trowa was absolutely sure that all the joy and
happiness in the universe emanated from the gentle heart and tender
soul of Duo Maxwell.
They were still entwined on the sofa the next morning, sound asleep,
when Heero dragged himself out of bed. He tossed a blanket over them
and muttered, in his familiar 'Perfect Soldier' monotone "This is not
your room."
-----Owari-----