put your dukes up

 "Okay,“ He said quickly, nodding, "I like that.”

 He scooted himself back another few inches until he could lean back against the cabinets, knees still drawn up to his chest.

 "You finish the sink,“ He said, "And I'll sit right here and not get up for awhile.”

He needed to get Tony alone. It wasn’t just a want anymore -- it almost felt like those scenes in the movies where a bomb is ticking and the character has to disable it or else Really Bad Things™ will happen. And time was counting down. 

“I dunno. If you get up and let me get a good look at ya, might be even more of an incentive for me,” he joked with a teasing glint in his eye. But he didn’t need any more incentive, god knew. He gathered up the nuts he’d dropped, ducking back under the sink, and he had those bitches back where they belonged in seconds flat -- normal werewolves probably didn’t use their heightened agility for stuff like this, but normal werewolves didn’t have someone like Anthony Graham waiting on them. Duke had reached a point where he’d do anything just to continue being in his packmate’s presence.

 Duke broke the kiss, but Tony followed, trying to steal another. The press of Duke’s forehead against his made Tony blink his eyes open, realizing for the first time that his breath had gone a little heavy. He panted through an open mouth, licking out over an already slick lower lip. He shifted his grip on Duke’s hip again, and considered telling Duke that he really didn’t give a fuck, that he wanted Duke anyways.

 Duke, though, bless him, had a point. Tony sat back on the ground hard and heaved a sigh. He brought his knees up and hung his arms over them, giving a short nod.

He smiled a little as he watched Tony seem to come back into himself, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. Had Tony always had it this bad for him? Duke had, at one point, almost thought it was one-sided, that he’d been the only one to feel the connection between them. But seeing Tony now, his lips pink and glistening, his skin flushed very slightly, made Duke realize differently. 

 Duke started slow, and it was Tony that tried pressing harder. One hand was pressed to the kitchen floor, supporting himself as he leaned over Duke to kiss him. The other hand hovered, anxious, over Duke’s body, Tony eager to touch, but not wanting to come across as too eager, not when Duke was still holding back.

A low, pleased sound started to well in Duke’s throat, and it was this sound alone that reminded him where they were and what they were doing. He already wanted to do so many things with Tony, to Tony, and if they kept at this, he’d be trying to do said things with him while his poor mother listened on in the other room.

 He felt the nuzzle though, and turned into it. Tony caught his lower lip between his teeth as Duke spoke, holding back what felt like a whine trying to rise out of his throat. Jesus, that’s what he wanted, that’s all he’d ever wanted. To know Duke was thinking about him, because God knew Tony spent enough time thinking about Duke. And he had the scribbles to prove it, too, the harried lines, quick thought scrawled out on the back of bar napkins, little sections of words for him to expand upon, or leave as they were. He just had to hope Duke would never find them.

As Tony turned his head, Duke knew what was coming. Time slowed and he held his breath without realizing it, and there was a part of him that felt like he needed to stop Tony. Did Tony actually want to do this or did he feel like he had to for whatever reason? Would Duke be taking advantage of him if he went through with it? After what Tony had said, Duke didn’t think so, but things could change, right? 

 “You can stop being a dumbass, for one.” Tony started, and just because he wanted them to be over this didn’t mean he was going to let Duke off easy. “I know that might be hard for you but…”

 He sighed, and shifted a little closer. With his head dropped down, he leaned in to rest his forehead on Duke’s shoulder. He took in a deep breath, Duke’s scent thick on the air, close and overpowering and god, Tony had missed it.

As Tony dropped his head so that his forehead pressed against Duke’s shoulder, Duke shifted very slightly as though he could get closer. This was the sort of closeness he’d craved for so long, and it took everything in Duke not to wrap an arm around Tony and pull him against him. His fingers itched to slide into Tony’s hair.

 He watched Duke work, drank in every quick glance he was given, but it wasn’t enough. He heard Duke’s words, and god, he was just starting to get the hang of apologizing, wasn’t he? Tony wondered if he should feel a little proud of that, but right then he didn’t know how many other emotions he had room for. He felt fit to burst, chock full of worry, and guilt, shame, and that anger was still there, blanketing the hurt that Duke had first left him with.

 Tony moved to his knees, dragged himself closer to Duke and reached out, grabbing a handful of the front of Duke’s shirt and tugging, gently, but wanting to other wolf out from under the sink.

He sighed a little, forgetting the task at hand, and he pulled himself out from under the sink, almost clumsy in his sheepishness. He sat up, his head ducked a little, and after a long moment, he slowly raised his gaze to meet his packmate’s. Tony looked just like his voice had sounded -- drawn and worn out, a shell of his normally teasing, playful self. And it was because of Duke, wasn’t it?

“You can’t believe it?” He asked, and gave a short laugh. “You shoulda seen my face. I had no idea what was happening.”

It wasn’t much of an exaggeration. Hearing from Duke’s mother had definitely thrown him for a loop, and Tony had just tried not to ask any stupid questions. Has he said anything about me? What has he said? Does he miss me like I miss him? He’d managed to get through the conversation without embarrassing himself, though, or so he hoped. Now he’d just have to repeat the process.

Worry hit him then, like a solid punch to the gut, and he was glad his hands were already clenched to fists. It would help to hide the shaking, he thought. He leaned back a little, readied himself to get to his feet.

He finished cleaning out the trap and replaced it, but before he could make a move to continue, he could sense Tony’s anxiety spiking. Just as Tony spoke, Duke reached for him, without thinking, and he grabbed him gently by the wrist. “Stay.” And he added softly, his thumb tracing a tiny circle against the warm skin, “I always want to see you.” 

It was probably uneccessary, Tony wasn’t the one who’d done the majority of the fucking up (so he liked to tell himself), and honestly, she was nicer to him than she could have been. Talk, was all she asked of him, show up, was all she required. Tony couldn’t have said no if he wanted to. He felt like a child being chastised for fighting with a classmate, but honestly, Tony was a little grateful to be given the chance. He hadn’t seen Duke since the fight, and each day and night gone by had made him bitterly regret his words. He’d said get out, but he hadn’t mean for good. It was just like Duke, though, wasn’t it, to run again? To take Tony’s anger as some twisted form of permission.

Duke’s bike was out front, chrome reflecting the bright sunlight, and as he walked by, Tony let a hand glance over the hot metal of the tank as he approached the house. Duke’s mother let him in, and god, this was weird. Even with the invite, Tony didn’t feel like he should be here. These were the things Duke worked so hard to protect, to keep quiet about, and here was Tony, barging in without asking again.

She waved him through, and he thanked her, softly, offering a smile, praying for the first time in his life that he could be the sort of person that a mother would like. Duke was under the sink when Tony found him, but Tony wasn’t stupid, Duke knew he was there. He didn’t say anything at first, didn’t know where to start. After a moment, though, he stepped over, knelt down beside Duke’s outstretched legs and looked up into the innards of the underside of the sink.

And then Tony was moving closer, his nearness nearly making Duke’s different senses sing, and Duke forced himself to start unscrewing the nuts. It was Tony who broke the silence. Duke hesitated. The sound of the other’s voice -- after so much time had passed between now and their most recent argument -- felt like electricity down Duke’s spine.

He cleared his throat and said, “It’s nothing really -- just a clog.” He finished with the last of the nuts and shifted to come out from his hiding space -- as much as he would have liked to stay, there was no reason for him to. “Was leaky a few months ago and I fixed it, but apparently this thing just likes givin’ Ma hell.”

 “So you got out and get your ass kicked so I’ll play nurse? Fuck you.” He said again. “I care about you without your face all fucked up, I worry about you enough, god damn it. Don’t think you need fucking pity to get me to pay attention to you because it’s always been you, Duke. Since the first time we saw each other in this fucking bar. Always.” He didn’t know where the words were coming from, but they poured out of his mouth unbidden, spilling out secrets Tony hadn’t even known himself, not directly. But it all fit, it slotted together perfectly like they should have, if they could both stop being stubborn assholes for two minutes. Tony, though, wasn’t ready to forgive Duke for all this. Not yet.

“Tony,” he tried, but it was low and weary and he sounded angry, and this wasn’t what he’d wanted at all. Why couldn’t he do anything right? He ran his fingers through his hair, taking in a slow, deep breath to try and calm himself, to keep himself from arguing and digging this hole deeper. A wordless sound left his throat as Tony turned away from him, the action hurting just a little bit more than a punch might have, and he took another step back. 

“I’m -- I’m sorry,” he said. And even if Tony doubted it, at least it was there, at least he hadn’t waited as long this time around. But Tony had turned away from him, had told him to leave -- so he did. 

 Jealous. Duke was jealous, and while Tony knew that a small part of him wanted to be pleased, to feel elated and triumphant, Tony couldn’t bring any of those feelings to surface. He’d thought he’d wanted Duke’s jealousy, but now that it was laying out before him… He just felt angry.

 “Jealous of what?” He snapped, gripping the edge of the sink tightly, staring furiously at Duke, who had the nerve to look tentative.

He snorted. “What do you think? How much more obvious can I be?” And he gave a wry bark of laughter and said, “I want you. And when I think about someone else touching you -- someone who doesn’t know you like I do, or care about you like I do -- how else am I supposed to feel?” 

He took a step back, limbs locked and heavy. “And yeah, before you say anything, I know it’s my fault that you felt like I didn’t care. I fucked up and now I’m just tryin’ to figure out how to deal with the consequences, hence the colorful fuckin’ masterpiece that is currently my face.” 

 He’d gone to rinse the rag again when Duke answered his question, and for a moment Tony simply fell still. He shut the tap off, and draped the rag over the side of the sink where it dripped with water stained red.

He watched Tony carefully. Held his breath without realizing it as the younger man tensed. And when Tony spoke, Duke was surprised that only half of him regretted saying anything. He dropped his gaze and took a slow, even breath. Honesty, right? That was what he was trying for. Slowly, bracing himself for what would come after, he said, “It means, uh, that I wanted to tear that kid apart because I -- I was jealous.” 

 He gave a shallow nod at Duke’s question, still occupied with the cigarette before handing the lighter back. It was Duke’s last statement that caught him off guard, and the exhale that Tony let out was shaky. He dropped his head, cigarette clamped between his fingers and he had to dig the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to rub away the sudden sting of emotion. Fuck, he knew that, didn’t he? He knew he belonged with the Raff, with Duke, too. He knew right where he was supposed to be, he’d just needed everyone else to know it, too, and here, here was the most important person telling him exactly what he wanted to hear most. His inhale was even shakier than his exhale had been, breath hitching, and Tony shook his head quickly to try and shake away the emotions clouding him.

He took the longest drag possible on his cigarette like he could forget how badly he wanted to run his fingers through Tony’s short hair, like he could forget the way his fingers longed to trace the contours of his face. Duke was practically visibly out of breath by the time he exhaled smoke through his nose, but that was when he realized something was up with Tony. Worry shot through Duke and he tossed his unfinished cigarette out, taking a step nearer -- this time, his need to touch Tony didn’t come from anything other than concern for a packmate. 

He reached over and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Hey,” he said gently, “You alright?”