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Duke had never really liked labels. The sense of confinement, restriction that came with them. That you must be one thing or the other. He’d never been very good at that sort of thing.
So when he was inevitably asked if he was gay, or straight, or bi throughout his life he’d always steadfastly said “no”. Which confused the hell out of people, but he could care less.
What no one ever asked was what he considered himself to be, and that was just a connoisseur of all fine things. He liked good wine, good food, good whiskey. He loved it when he got to have exceptional things, and at some point it became clear that he could only ever really want exceptional people.
He could look at men and women and think them beautiful. He understood attraction and wanting to touch and taste. He’d fallen into bed with a fair number of people but it was so rarely what he wanted or needed. He could see the difference between beautiful bodies and beautiful souls and how rare it was that they came in the same package.
He’d known from the moment they met that Nathan was one of the exceptional people. This was long before he understood attraction or sex or love, or even what being exceptional meant. But he knew that Nathan was it. And it was another long number of years before he realized just how rare being exceptional was.
Understanding that Nathan was something special didn’t lead to Duke understanding how to deal with him. They were cruel in the way that children can be cruel, and Duke is man enough to admit that he was crueler than Nathan could ever be, though the Chief’s son had gotten some licks in over the years.
They stay friends through all the hurt and upset and pranks. Duke grows to understand that their friendship doesn’t make sense to anyone else, not with how they have and do and will treat each other. But they still can’t back away, neither boy. And he starts to wonder if maybe he’s exceptional for Nathan the same way Nathan is for him.
He kisses him when they are teenagers. Secretly, unexpectedly, too hard, and completely perfect. And Nathan kisses him back, fingers clutching at his arm, a moment frozen in time. They break apart and don’t speak of it, but something shifts, and they spend the next few years testing and exploring and tasting.
Nathan is not his first. That honor goes to a girl, older and probably even less wise who was so ordinary that her name doesn’t even matter. Not when there was Nathan, serious and strong and unwavering and perfect. They sneak, as teenagers do, in sheds and cars and empty boats. He is Nathan’s first, and he fights to make it better than his, something to remember.
He calls him Nate when they are alone and wound together, the name on his lips a prayer and a promise and desperate hope. That Nathan understands what this is, that they can keep it forever.
Duke never manages to tell Nathan that he loves him. He tries to show it, and hopes that Nathan understands, but the words seem too big to utter at seventeen and too small to encompass what he feels. Nathan never says it either, and Duke doesn’t know if it’s because he doesn’t feel it or if he’s running from the words the same way Duke is.
They graduate, and suddenly there is a chasm. They have one more perfect summer then Nathan goes off to college. And Duke doesn’t. He’s had enough of confinement and paths and plans. He hangs around for a few years, picking up odd jobs and visiting Nathan when he can. They write and call and it’s all still there, but not, and it’s as awful as it is wonderful.
He turns twenty-one and wins a boat of his own and feels the call of anywhere else - feels free for the first time in his life. He tries to tell Nate about it, but finds him dancing too close with a woman and leaves instead. The pain in his chest is worse than being punched in the heart, it’s more like it’s been ripped out and laid to waste. He leaves Maine without a word, sailing off into a sky that isn’t a sunset, but might as well be for all the endings this represents.
The following years are a blur. He goes wherever the wind blows him, following men and women and money and highs. He learns new forms of intoxication, in both chemicals and flesh. And he tries to forget that some people shine more than others, that some are perfect in a way that means that their imperfections line up with yours and you are whole and flawless together.
It is in these missing years that he learns to appreciate fine food and drink, trying to find some way to replace the feeling he used to get when Nathan put his skin against his own. And it is in these years that he learns how to skate close to the edge of the law, dipping and diving over and around. He learns the trade from the best, and learns even more in his bed.
And then he learns about betrayal and pain. Again. Learns that it isn’t just the special ones that can hurt you, it is anyone that you give that power to. So he stops giving and starts taking. He takes everything available, leaving a path of destruction in his wake that he can’t even stir himself to care about.
He takes and takes and never gives, not until he meets Evidence Ryan, a girl as lost and broken as he is. She is as crooked as he is, too, and they are off together in the shadow world, a pair with nothing to lose and really nothing to gain. Duke can’t figure out if her presence in his life is just another con, but he takes it, like he takes everything else she has, giving nothing until she asks for the one thing he thinks maybe he can give her. His name.
Evi is special. She’s more than the endless parade of ordinary that his life has been, but she doesn’t shine for him. She’s tarnished and needs someone better than him to polish her up, turn her into what she could be. But she’s chosen him, for all his faults, and he loves her a little bit for it.
But she isn’t really his. Her imperfections and his don’t slot together to make something precious, they grate against each other, wearing away pieces of their souls until they are almost hollow. They run with it for a while, almost too long. Then Duke feels that itching in the back of his mind that means Haven is about to go nuclear again. He has a promise to keep that he made a long time ago, and it somehow means more to him than any he has ever given Evi. He leaves without a word, a bad habit he really should look at breaking.
He rolls back into town like a storm, desperate to make an impression and afraid of what he will find. He has been back in Haven for only days when he figures out that time and distance have not given him the kind of distance he actually craves. Nathan is there and he is still beautiful and he is as alone as Duke with far less reason.
For all his promises to himself, all of his hurt and all of his pain, Duke has never been able to resist Nathan. He invites him fishing, the back of his mind going to all of the things that had happened on boats when they were teenagers and how much more privacy they will have as adults on the open water. He fights to keep his voice even, his face blank, but he thinks he fails, because Nathan is swallowing hard before agreeing.
They are alone and on the water when Duke has some more truths served up to him on a platter. Nathan is still shining and exceptional, the most beautiful and precious thing he has ever seen. But Duke no longer thinks that Nate is his. The way they ended left cracks in both of them and they no longer become whole when together. They grate, they pick, they destroy.
Duke still loves Nathan enough that he is willing to sacrifice himself on this altar. He would tear his soul out an inch at a time to have him. But more importantly, he still loves Nate enough to not want that for him.
Nathan has learned to assume the worst of him. He’s had long years without Duke, long years to listen to Garland Wournos and his hate. Long years to forget what the magic between them felt like. Part of Duke acknowledges that it might be fair based on the evidence to hand, but another part of him rages and aches that Nathan doesn’t know him better.
All of these realizations come like fast blows to his head and heart, one after the other on the open water. And then Duke knows. The only way to save Nathan from the same fate as Evi, as Duke himself, is to become the man that Nathan now thinks he is. So Duke does.
The Coast Guard comes and he acts obnoxious. The fight he had been itching for comes and they trade angry, vengeful blows for an hour. All of the rage and pain of the last decade or more come to the surface and they fight it out. Duke bleeds out his love for Nate, lets Nathan hurt him to sever the bond that would destroy them.
Then Nathan is reeling back, confusion and shock and horror all over him. Duke doesn’t understand, but feels guilty anyway and nearly breaks from the character he’d built around himself. Nate is staring at his hands, at the blood on his knuckles and the bruises on his arms. And then he speaks, voice low and dead. His Trouble is back. He feels nothing.
Duke wishes he felt nothing. He wants to be far away from this pain inside him, the guilt and horror of the hands-down worst thing he has ever done. He wordlessly heads to the cabin and steers them back to land. Nathan is gone as soon as he bumps dock and Duke is left alone. He heads to the shower, washing blood and sweat and tears down the drain.
He hates himself, but carries on. Duke dedicates his life to debauchery, crime, and sarcasm. What Nathan doesn’t understand is that this cuts Duke apart as much as it does Nathan. All of this is just another way to bleed for him. Another way to get what he deserves.
They keep to this dance for years. Duke starts to forget what love and happiness feels like. He drowns in alcohol and skin and doesn’t care. He can’t have what he wanted, so nothing matters.
Until the day that Audrey Parker walks into his life. Or, more accurately, flops into his life when she got shocked and thrown into the water. Duke wouldn’t let anyone die like that, no matter what Nathan thinks, so he fishes her out. And the minute he touches her he knows - she shines.
It robs his breath, but there is nothing to do but take her to his boat and get her warm. He strips her off, an enjoyable task but hard not to finish, and tucks her into his bed, trying hard not to entertain fantasies about what they could do there. He’s too old and jaded to believe in love and magic.
So he washes her clothes, sleeps on an uncomfortable and too short loveseat, and makes her coffee in the morning. None of it matters, she’s working with Nathan and she will be poisoned against him soon enough. The shining, beautiful, exceptional woman in his bed isn’t meant for him. She couldn’t be.
He thinks that she is for Nathan. It only makes sense that the two most incredible people that he’s ever met would belong together. He can’t get either one of them out of his head, but he thinks he might be content if they could love each other. The right way. The way that completes you and makes you better. The way that those two deserve to be loved.
But they don’t manage to get it together. They dance around each other and never click into place. And then Nathan is dating Jess - nice enough but bizarre and she doesn’t deserve him because she is only average. That falls apart and he has hope again, but then Audrey starts dating Chris Brody - who is basically the most amazing guy ever, but he doesn’t shine for Duke and that means he doesn’t deserve Audrey.
But he can’t do anything but sit back and watch because this is what he’s done to himself. One gift Audrey does give him is Nathan, at least in some form. Audrey looks at people and she sees their truth and she doesn’t believe what Nathan says about him. She trusts him when all evidence should be compelling her to run.
He wants to love Audrey. He wants to love her the way he once loved Nathan - sliding together until they are a whole, pieces fitting exactly into place to make something wonderful. But it’s frustratingly not right. The same way it’s no longer right with Nathan - he can feel the potential, the almost, but it doesn’t fit and they grate and destroy.
Duke starts to think that he’ll only destroy everything he dares to love.
Audrey never gives up on him. She pushes and prods and involves him in their lives until he and Nathan are at least speaking again and he and Audrey are on an even keel. It isn’t always easy, and it isn’t the closeness they once had, but it is a piece of Nathan that Duke never thought he would have again. And Audrey watches them. She watches them thoughtfully and carefully with those eyes that see too much and Duke worries.
Finally it is all too much and Duke makes either the stupidest or most brilliant decision of his life. He invites them fishing.
He can see the wheels turning in Nathan’s head, the synapses firing and making connections to the last time he’d been invited fishing on Duke’s boat when everything went straight to hell. Duke is three seconds away from doing something drastic - he isn’t sure if it’s apologizing for everything in a flood or withdrawing the offer or swearing on a stack of bibles that here is nothing illegal on the boat. But Nathan beats him to it by agreeing to go in two clipped words before walking away.
Duke is dumbfounded, struck silent. Audrey smiles at him, that smile that says she knows more than she is letting on. She tells him that she’ll see him Saturday morning and kisses his cheek before trailing off after Nathan. Duke stands perfectly still, memorizing everything about this moment. He can still feel her lips on his skin and the rush in his heart when Nathan agreed.
He wonders if this is what hope feels like.
Nathan and Audrey turn up in separate cars on Saturday morning, but at the exact same time like it was planned. Duke has been up for hours burning off his nervous energy getting the boat ready and making sure he has enough food and liquor. He watches them walk up the dock together and has a flash of understanding. Nathan is scared and Audrey is his anchor.
He greets them without a trace of sarcasm and they answer back, Nathan wary and Audrey open. They shove off and he feeds them waffles once they get onto open water and puffs up when they’re both impressed with the things he’s learned over the years.
And then there is beer and a long, lazy afternoon in the sun, holding fishing poles and having genuine, relaxed conversation. This is something from a decade ago. This is something that has been missing and something craved. Duke thinks maybe Audrey is a conduit by which he and Nathan can have some semblance of a relationship.
Then, because this is his life and it is fucked, the Coast Guard pull up beside them. Duke learned his damn lesson the first time and genially invites them aboard, no matter how much he resents the interruption to what had been the happiest afternoon in more than a decade.
He nearly falls off the boat entirely when Nathan unfolds his long lean body from the chair he’d been sitting in and walks over, flashing his credentials and saying that they are more than welcome to look around, but he’ll vouch for the fact that there is nothing more sinister than beer and fishing on the boat. The water cops are now all smiles and back slapping and head on their way.
Duke stares at Nathan dumbfounded. He’s pretty sure his mouth is even hanging open, but he’s lost all control of his body in the face of this complete turn around in attitude. Nathan sticks out one hand and pushes his jaw up and closed. He doesn’t move his hand, it just rests gently against Duke’s face and Duke isn’t sure that he can breathe. They stare at each other for several long beats before Nathan smiles and heads back to his chair.
Audrey watches.
Duke flees to the kitchen.
He cooks truly remarkable food because there are two remarkable people on his boat and he thinks that everything might not be as ruined as he had thought. It’s worth it when they start eating and it’s open expressions of delight on two precious faces. Nathan might not be able to feel, but he can still taste, and it’s one way that Duke can still reach him, still give him something.
There is wine, good wine, and then good whiskey. And none of them seem inclined to head to shore. Duke knows that he never wants to go back in case this spell is broken. If they could just stay out here, on the open water, maybe everything could be OK.
It is after midnight when he turns the boat to shore. He doesn’t really want to go back, but he wants to sleep and doesn’t think dropping anchor out here is one of his better plans. Nathan and Audrey have retreated into his living space as night fell and the cold crept in. Nathan would never have moved except Audrey pulled on a blanket and Duke a sweater.
Nathan notices everything, or at least everything about them, and ushers them inside with only one crack about his old man sweater. Duke leaves them to pilot back to shore. He finally ties the boat off at the dock and goes down to let them know that they are free - he’s no longer got them captive on the water.
Except neither of them seem to want to leave. Audrey has curled herself into his recliner and Nathan is sitting on the love seat, head back as he stares at the ceiling. The only free seat is next to Nathan and Duke isn’t sure how welcome he’d be, so he leans awkwardly against the wall and stares at them. Nathan opens one eye and tells him that he doesn’t bite.
And Duke loses his mind for the thirty seconds it takes to crack a joke and tell him that’s a shame - it was nice when he used to.
The room is still and silent as they both stare at him, gazes so heavy Duke thinks he might fall through the floor. Then Nathan is standing, unfolding like his muscles are made of rubber bands. Duke thinks that he’s done it again, that this trip will end in blows just like the last one does.
Nathan is close enough that Duke can smell him: spice and whiskey and salt. Instead of punching him, Nathan leans into him, hands cupping either side of his face. He breathes in deeply and Duke wonders if he’s smelling him right back, then he moves the remaining inches forward and their lips meet.
Nathan has made the leap, he lets Duke control the pressure. It’s been too long and he can’t tell if he’s hurting or helping without a lot of concentration so Duke is sure it just seems easier to relinquish control. So Duke gives him what he’s asking for.
Nathan can’t feel, but he can smell and taste and hear and see, so Duke tries to engage him on other levels. From the press of Nathan’s body into his, it’s working. Duke both desperately does and does not want to do this. The reasons he pushed Nate away are all still valid, he doesn’t want to destroy him and that is all they will do.
Then he feels a tiny warm hand at his waist, snaking up under his shirt to touch bare skin. He hears Nathan inhale sharply and he looks down to see Audrey’s other hand mirroring the pose on Nate and he realizes that Nate can feel her. He can feel her, and he clearly knows and she clearly knows, but they’re both still here with him. They’re both touching him.
His brain is on overload, a glorious meltdown. They’re all kissing, pairs and confusing smashing together of all three of their mouths and it is glorious. Duke sheds his shirt and starts work on Nathan’s wondering how far his luck will hold. Audrey’s hands join his on the buttons, meeting in the middle and pushing Nate’s shirt off and carelessly on to the floor. Then it is Audrey’s turn and Duke doesn’t even know where to look.
He pushes his luck again and maneuvers them to the bedroom and the sinfully large bed that he’s always had, even with nothing to fill it. They both follow, willingly, and Duke feels like he’s drowning again, but this time the hurt is welcome. He doesn’t know if this is just for tonight, and as much as that would hurt he doesn’t care. For right now, everything is bright and shining and wondrous and he wouldn’t trade it for the world.
Safely in the bedroom, more overtures are made and clothes fall button by button until there is nothing left. They tumble into bed together, the three of them in a confusing pile of limbs and touch. They quickly discover that Nathan can feel where Audrey is touching, so she twines her hand with Duke’s and they trail single fingers over Nathan’s body in tandem. Nathan can feel them both, one soft with a slight scrape of fingernail and one rough and calloused.
And suddenly Duke remembers how to give. What it feels like to want to give instead of take. How to pour everything you are into another person and let them fill you back up, new and different.
It should have been awkward and difficult, but instead it was easy and instinctual. They flowed together, touching, sliding in and out of positions, spiraling higher and higher until they shatter, one after the other. They collapse onto the bed, worn out and sweaty. Duke ends up in the middle and he tries to argue that Nathan should be able to touch Audrey so he can feel, but he loses. And learns that Nathan thinks he is exactly where he wants to be.
He falls asleep on his side, Nathan spooned around his body in a way that is both familiar and strange. Audrey is curled into his front, facing him, her hand holding Nathan’s. He feels complete and wistful, too aware of how temporary this may be.
He wakes in the same place, three pairs of legs all tangled together beneath the sheets. Audrey smiles at him and says good morning before kissing him softly. Then Nathan is pressing soft kisses down his spine and Duke stops thinking while they indulge in round two.
When they finish, they beg for showers and for him to make them waffles and he is more than happy to indulge them. He rinses his own body before heading off to cook, leaving them to wash and dress. He’s setting the table when they both come out to join him and he nearly chokes at the sight. Audrey is dressed in one of his button ups and Nathan is wearing a pair of his drawstring pants.
Nate finishes unbuttoning Duke’s already half buttoned shirt as Audrey’s hands go to his hips and she whispers that he’s overdressed. They steal his shirt and a few kisses before settling down to eat and it’s only when the conversation is flowing, the food is being downed, and they’re all sneaking touches over and under the table that Duke realizes this is real.
That last night wasn’t a fluke or the product of too much of his best whiskey. This was just three people coming together to make a whole. It hits him then, in the head and the heart at the same time.
This is what was always meant to be. He’d been right and wrong about both Nathan and Audrey. They were both perfect and imperfect for him at the same time. It wasn’t an or situation - Duke in a pair with either of them wouldn’t work long term.
It was an and. This, this perfect balancing triangle is what his life has been leading up to. It took the three of them to get together, to line up their hearts and minds and souls in order to create something perfect. It was only the three of them together that created this new flawless whole. Audrey slotted in and smoothed the sharp edges that were left when it was just Duke and Nate, stopped them cutting themselves apart trying to love and just let them do it.
Duke doesn't want to repeat the mistakes of the past, he’d prefer making new ones, so he opens his mouth as soon as it occurs to him what he actually feels. He tells them he loves them over the remains of waffles after just one day and he holds his breath.
But it isn’t laughter or anger. It’s just more smiles and soft touches and declarations right back. And he understands that this has been building for a long time. He and Nathan laid the foundations and Audrey has been building them up since she came, seeing and prodding and maneuvering until they were all exactly where they wanted to be. Duke stands and pulls on their hands, guiding them straight back to the bedroom.
He brings the syrup.