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"The Wedding Planner"Written By: Snowdragonct Disclaimer: Don't own any part of Gundam Wing or the characters, more's the pity. This is for fun...no profit involved. Warnings: AU, yaoi, some OOC, angst, potential lemon(s), sickening sappy fluff Pairings: to be announced, or it’d be too easy (but you know who I like) A/N: This idea hit me while I was driving somewhere, and I needed to start it before the inspiration faded. But it will take second place to Boot Camp and the sequel to Boot Camp, so I can’t promise regular or frequent updates. It’s probably totally predictable FLUFF, so you have been warned. And I’m trying out the world of first-person here, with point of view shifting between Heero and Duo (maybe others…not sure yet). Rating: NC 17 Summary: Heero isn't thrilled when Relena hires
someone to plan their wedding, but once he meets the young man, he's
downright unhappy. Duo Maxwell is friendly, good looking, and spending
way too much time with Relena...Heero's jealousy knows no bounds.
"The Wedding Planner"
Duo’s Point of View I wasn’t particularly interested in socializing or watching the game on the big screen in the corner. I just took my vodka on the rocks, told the bartender to keep ‘em coming, and settled onto a seat at the dark end of the bar. I know Trowa came in at some point and took over for the other man; I even recall the startled look in his green eyes as he brought me a refill. It was one a.m. when he finally cut me off. “You’ve had enough, Maxwell,” he said quietly, his tone almost gentle as he refused me a refill. I looked up blearily at his green eyes. “But I’m still conscious,” I protested. “Oh, Duo,” came a soft, disappointed voice to my left. “Quat?” I blinked at him, wondering how he materialized out of thin air. He looked past me for a second. “Thanks for letting me know he was here, Trowa.” “Traitor!” I muttered, trying to push away from the bar, but only succeeding in knocking my empty glass over. “Aw, fuck.” I heard a dry, mirthless chuckle, as Trowa came around the bar and went over to Quatre. “He was this way when I got here,” he said apologetically. “I was afraid he’d leave if I cut him off; so I watered the hell out of his drinks and called you first chance I got.” Well, that explained a lot. I’d kind of wondered why he hadn’t refused to serve me; if I’d been even remotely sober, I might have noticed that my vodka was mighty weak, even allowing for the melting ice in it. “You’re an asshole, Tro,’” I muttered. “And a good friend,” Quatre pointed out. “Thanks.” “Sorry I came in late tonight, or he’d never have gotten this far.” “I have got to find another place to drink,” I snarled. I’d have gotten up and done just that, but I was way beyond walking unassisted by then. When I made it to my feet, I promptly stumbled, catching Quatre for support. His arms went around my waist to steady me, and he sighed and muttered a vague curse. But when he looked up at me, there were practically tears in those soft blue eyes, and I immediately felt a wave of remorse. “’M sorry,” I mumbled. “Broke my promise.” “I can see that,” came the terse reply. “What I don’t know is why. Why, Duo?” “I slept with him,” I replied flatly. He knew who I was talking about. For that matter, Trowa probably did too. I wasn’t delusional enough to think those two didn’t share secrets. “I’m planning his fucking wedding, and I slept with him. I’m so going to Hell.” I started to collapse, only to find Trowa helping to support me. He pulled one of my arms across his shoulders, while Quatre got the other. “Let’s get him to the Jag,” Quatre sighed. Between the two of them, they half-dragged me outside and more or less poured me into the passenger seat of the Jag. “Thanks for helping me get him out here.” “For you, Quatre? Anything.” I heard the soft sounds of kissing—the quickening of their breath—and then Quatre’s voice again. “I’ll call you when I get him home.” “I could close up early—.” “That’s okay. But if you could drive my car over when you get out—?” “Sure.” “Love you.” “You too.” “God—I’m gonna puke if you don’t stop it!” I warned, wondering if Quatre would dock my pay the price of having the Jag cleaned out, since I had a feeling I was going to puke either way. There was a wry chuckle. “G’night, Maxwell. Hope you feel better,” came Trowa’s unsympathetic voice. Quatre got in the other side and started the Jag. “He didn’t really mean that,” I said as we pulled out of the parking lot. “Mean what?” “That he hopes I feel better,” I clarified. “Trowa wouldn’t care if I puked my guts out all night.” “Sure he would. He’s your friend too,” Quatre insisted. “Now how about you tell me what happened?” I groaned, leaning back against the headrest. “Heero came over to apologize for the kiss and then he did it again and we ended up in bed,” I blurted, giving him the abridged version. “Oh.” “No, Quat—the appropriate phrase is ‘shit, damn and motherfuck,’” I corrected him meticulously. “I see.” He was silent for awhile, as he pulled onto the highway, taking the quickest route to his apartment. But after a few miles we hit a section of road under construction and I suddenly realized there was no way I was going to make it. “Pull over,” I advised, already starting to roll down the window. “Quick!” “Shit, damn and motherfuck!” Quatre blurted as he slid the Jag to a screeching halt in the breakdown lane. “You get one drop on the upholstery and I’ll take it out of your hide, Maxwell!” he promised. I flung the door open and threw myself out, ending up on my hands and knees by the side of the road, retching miserably. Yeah—in a word—right where I belonged.
Then I turned my head carefully to the side, familiar with the dazzling array of aches, pains, and illness that generally accompanied a night of excessive alcohol consumption. It wasn’t so bad…at least until I saw Quatre wrapped in a quilt in the armchair in the corner, his head tilted at what looked like an uncomfortable angle while he snored quietly. Fuck. I’d made the poor guy spend yet another night babysitting my sorry ass. “God, Quat—I’m sorry,” I groaned quietly, putting both hands over my face. I felt like a complete heel. I let one stupid mistake give me an excuse to break my promise to the best friend I ever had. I didn’t know how I’d ever make this up to him. He’d no doubt extract a new promise from me, not for the first time. And if I was really lucky, he wouldn’t bully me into going back into rehab. I mean, it’s not like I went off on a week-long bender. It was one night of stupidity; kind of like the one that came before. But even while I’d be the first to admit sleeping with Heero had been a huge mistake, I still was having trouble wishing I hadn’t. It was still the best sex of my life, and I still wouldn’t trade the memory for anything in the world. I just wished it wasn’t going to ruin so many lives. And I had a feeling unless I could talk Heero into forgetting his bout of temporary insanity, there would definitely be lives ruined. “Oh, you’re awake,” Quatre murmured sleepily, blinking those big blue eyes at me. “I’m so sorry.” “I know.” With characteristic understanding, Quatre smiled wearily at me. “You were sorry last night,” he told me. “I don’t think you ever started apologizing before you were sober before.” “It won’t happen again,” I assured him. “The drinking, I mean. Not the apologizing.” He sighed, frowning a little, and I knew he was thinking he’d heard that promise before. “I didn’t go to The Circus planning on drinking,” I told him. “I dropped Catherine and James off, and went in to wait for you. Honest. But Trowa wasn’t there, and then the other guy asked if he could get me a drink, and it was just—too accessible.” The little blonde was nothing if not a shrewd negotiator. “How long has it been since you checked in with your psychiatrist?” “A few months. He said once I got off the anti-depressants, I didn’t need to keep coming.” “If you’re still using alcohol as a crutch, you might need to reconsider that.” “It was a one-shot deal, Quat, I promise!” “Really? And what about the mess with Heero? It hasn’t gone away overnight, Duo. Are you going to crawl back inside a bottle next time you talk to him, or see him, or sleep with him?” “I’m not gonna sleep with him again. Ever! It was a mistake. A huge mistake.” He looked dubiously at me. “If he walked in here right now, could you say ‘no’ to him?” I opened my mouth to answer, and amazingly, nothing came out. I finally shook my head, wincing as I recalled I was hung over. “Ow.” I got an unsympathetic smirk for that. “Good. You should suffer. For making me crazy with worry.” “I’m sorry.” “So you keep saying.” Quatre stood up and stretched. “Think you can take a shower and stagger out to the kitchen on your own? I’ll start water for tea and dig out some aspirin.” “Yeah, I’m okay.” As I rolled out of bed I realized that I wasn’t as badly off as I might have been if Trowa hadn’t watered down my drinks. Despite a pounding headache, and some vague queasiness, I felt more or less fine. “I don’t suppose you got the bag of biscuits from Jacques out of the Jag.” “As a matter of fact, I brought them in last night.” “Good. Maybe they’ll stay down.” I made my way to the shower, got cleaned up, and put Quatre’s sweats back on, then padded out to the kitchen, yawning and stretching. “Feel better? You look better.” Quatre nodded to the table, where he had teacups laid out, along with biscuits, jam, and all the accessories. “Have a little something to settle your stomach.” “It’s not so bad,” I told him, settling into a chair. “I suppose I have Trowa to thank for that.” “Yes, you do,” came the firm reply. “Aside from limiting how much alcohol you consumed, he kept you hydrated enough to stave off the worst of the hangover.” “He’s a good guy.” I nibbled cautiously on the edge of a biscuit. “Must be nice to love a guy you can actually have.” Quatre nodded, plopping into the chair across from me. “It is.” He poured tea for both of us and then fixed a worried look on me. “How bad have you got it for Yuy?” “You were right, Quat. I’m in love with him,” I sighed miserably. “You should have taken over the account back when I asked you to the first time.” “Maybe so. But that’s a moot point now.” He was silent for a moment, apparently lost in thought as he sipped his tea. “’Lena’s gonna fire my ass,” I mumbled around a mouthful of biscuit. “I’m nothing but L2 trash, and now she’ll know it for sure.” “She won’t know anything unless Heero tells her—and I doubt he will,” Quatre said reassuringly. “Unless, of course, he calls off the—.” “Shut up!” I snapped hastily. “Don’t even say that! He can’t call off the wedding because of me!” “But if he lo—.” “No! Fuck, Quatre, don’t say that either! He doesn’t love me! He can’t!” “Why not?” “Because he’s taken!” I leaned forward, bracing my elbows on the table and putting my face in my hands. “I never meant to steal him from Relena! Y’know how I’d have felt if someone took Solo or Alex away from me?” “Yeah, but the way you loved them was very different from Heero and Relena’s relationship. Didn’t she tell you it was more of a business arrangement than anything else?” “Yeah, well, speaking of business, what’ll it do to yours if word gets out that your employee stole Relena Peacecraft’s groom?” I groaned in horror. “I’m so fucked!” Quatre gave a short bark of laughter. “Well, you were…” “I hate you,” I muttered unhappily. “This is not amusing.” “I’m not amused, Duo. Really.” Pause. “Well, not much.” “Asshole.” We ate in silence for a few minutes, and then Quatre cleared his throat, once again looking serious. “How did you and Heero leave things?” I managed a wry snort. “Y’mean after we fucked each other’s brains out?” “Yes, afterwards. You must have talked—at least a little.” “He tried. I stalled. We fell asleep,” I told him flatly. “Then his phone rang in the morning and he was late for a meeting, so we didn’t have time to talk much.” “Did you call him during the day?” “I was out with Catherine and James, and then busy trying to drown myself in vodka.” I scowled at Quatre. “Why are we sitting here calmly discussing the status of things between Heero and me when I told you it might ruin your business?” He looked up at me with an expression I’ll never forget, and which made me once again wistfully wish that he and I could have been attracted to each other as lovers instead of just friends. “My business is just a business Duo. I’m much more concerned about your happiness. And if I thought for one minute that you could be happy with Heero—that you could have something like you had with Solo and Alex—I’d gladly forget Winning Weddings ever existed.” “I could be happy with him, if it weren’t for the fact that he’s already promised to someone else.” “But if it’s you he loves, he’d be wrong to marry her.” “Yeah, and it’s equally wrong for him to leave her just because of me!” He nodded, looking unconvinced. “Well, either way, you need to talk to him and find out how he feels about all this…what his plans are.” “I know.” “Can you do it without falling off the wagon again?” I nodded. “I’m tellin’ ya, Quat. Last night it was just a matter of bad timing. I honestly hadn’t even thought of going out for a drink until I was sitting there and it was offered.” “Promise me the next time you’ll call me?” Quatre gave me one of his patented “stern” looks. “If you hit bottom again, and you think you need to hide in a bottle, call me. Give me a chance to talk you out of it, like I did last time. And then if you still need the alcohol, I’ll give it to you myself. I’ll let you drink yourself into a stupor, so long as you do it where I can take care of you and keep you safe.” “I promise,” I told him. “But you won’t ever have to do that. I mean, the other night I let you talk me down, didn’t I?” “Yes—and not for the first time,” he conceded, recalling other times he’d been there to keep me from making stupid, self-destructive mistakes. I sat back in the chair, picking up my tea and sipping it with a steadier hand. “I’m gonna be okay, Quat. I promise.” I fixed an earnest gaze on him. “This isn’t like the other times. This time I made my own mess…so at least it feels like I have a little control over the outcome. Not like losing Solo and Alex…where I’d done nothing wrong and still lost everything. I flirted with Heero; I let him get close; and now I’ll deal with it like a rational adult.” He raised an eyebrow. “Okay—like a semi-rational, nearly-adult lovesick fool. How’s that?” He smiled and relaxed a little, obviously seeing that I really was in better shape than the times I’d used a bottle to temporarily escape the haunting memories of my dead fiancés. This really was a different situation, and one that, while heart-wrenching, was fixable. “You know that no matter what you do about Heero, I’m behind you completely, right?” he said gently. I nodded. “I know.” I looked at the clock over the stove. “Is it really almost noon?” “Yeah. We both needed the rest,” he reminded me. “Uh-huh. But now I need to pull myself together and get home and change. Catherine and James are meeting me at the Botanical Gardens at two, for a tour of the wedding garden.” “Want me to take it?” “No. You’ve coddled me enough,” I said firmly, pleased at the smile my resolve brought to Quatre’s face. I stood up and walked around the table to hug him tightly. “God, I love you, Quat. Y’know that?” “Of course I do,” he whispered back. “That’s why I know you’ll never repeat last night’s mistake.” I pulled back and gave him a devilish smirk. “Naw, I’ll make all new mistakes next time.” “You always do,” he agreed.
Finally, I picked up the phone and punched in his number. It barely rang before a breathless voice answered. “Duo! Are you okay?” “Yeah, ‘Ro. I’m fine,” I sighed, letting the soothing sound of his voice just wash over me. God, I loved everything about him. “Sorry.” “I went by your apartment last night. I was afraid maybe you—. That something might’ve happened to you.” The pained tone of voice just tugged at my heart. “God, ‘Ro, I’m so sorry,” I murmured soothingly. “Honestly, I worked late and then spent the night at Quat’s place.” “Avoiding me?” came the quiet question. “I guess. Kind of,” I admitted. “Running and hiding again.” “It’s what I do best.” “Please, don’t. Just talk to me. We can figure this out, Duo. I promise.” “There’s nothing to figure out,” I sighed. “Face it—we’ve barely gotten to know each other. You can’t throw away your relationship with Relena…your parents. Hell, Heero—do you even know your company’s stand on gay relationships?” I took a deep breath and plunged on before he could interrupt. “So, I’m gonna make this easy for you. Good—.” “No!” he snapped quickly, desperation in his voice. “Don’t you dare just say goodbye and hang up on me, Duo! Dammit, we need to talk. I need to see you again.” “No, you don’t,” I said firmly. “And I don’t need to see you. We just want it. And it’s not something we can have—not at the price it would cost.” “I don’t care what it costs.” “Yeah, you do. You just don’t know it yet—.” “Would you stop trying to make up my mind for me?” I could hear the impatience and frustration creeping into his voice. Good. That’d make it easier for him to let go—if he got angry with me. “Well one of us has to be the voice of reason.” I gave a dry chuckle. “Who’d have thought it’d be me?” “Why are you pushing me away?” “Because I have to. You have to figure out what you want—and you have to do it without me pulling you in the direction I want you to go.” “That makes no sense. If I have to make a choice, shouldn’t I be able to look for direction from the people involved?” “That’s just it. I can’t be involved, ‘Ro. This is something you and Relena have to decide together.” “Don’t you have an opinion?” Fuck, yes! “My opinion doesn’t count. It can’t. God, I love you, Heero—but I can’t deal with being responsible for hurting so many people to get what I want. And make no mistake, you’d be one of the people who got hurt. In fact, you, most of all, would be hurt. You’d lose your parents, your friends…maybe even your job. For what? Me?” “You don’t think you’re worth it?” “I think—. I don’t know what I think. Just, go get yourself sorted out. Take your life for a little test drive and see if you really think you want to give it all up. You may find that the grass isn’t so much greener over here. I’m not all you think I am.” “You have no idea what I think of you,” came a harsh response. “Why don’t you let me tell you?” “And why don’t you figure out what you really want before assuming it’s me?” I countered. “Shit, Heero. Before I came along you thought you were happy with Relena. What makes you think six months from now you wouldn’t figure out I’m not what you need either? You’ve got to go sort your shit out and figure out what you want out of life. Then, maybe we’ll have something to talk about.” “Duo—.” God, he sounded hurt. “Just let me go!” I demanded, blinking to clear my suddenly blurry vision. “No.” “Why are you making this so hard?” “Because I want it so much.” “You don’t even know what you want. You’re a more fucked-up individual than I am. You have no idea what it’ll take to make you happy—to make your life complete. When you figure it out, if it even involves me, maybe you can give me a call. But in the meantime, just leave me alone!” I cut off the call before he could say anything else. I swear to God if he’d said “please,” I’d have given in right then. I put the phone back on the hook, and then I went to pack some clothes. I had a feeling—. Fuck that. I knew damned well Heero would try to come over and see me. Hiding out at Quatre’s for a few days seemed like the best alternative. But as I picked up my suitcase and briefcase, it occurred
to me—Heero hadn’t called back. And I wasn’t sure what
to make of that.
tbc... |
