Smells Like Teen Spirit
by Shannon the Twisted Link Worshiper

(x) X (x)

Game 33
Serve the Servants

(x) X (x)

Quatre sat on the front bleacher of the school’s grandstand, hardly watching the lacrosse practice on the field. His book bag sat unzipped and lying on its side at his feet while he thumbed through a Japanese-English dictionary he’d borrowed from the library. Ever since the last time he’d been guest to Heero’s thoughts, he’d been unable to stop wondering about what he’d heard, particularly the person called Ojii-san, who Heero seemed to have been addressing. The word had sounded oriental to him, and he’d asked Wufei, who confirmed his theory that the word was Japanese, not Chinese. Right after that conversation, he’d dashed from Nataku’s to the local public library and checked out the biggest, thickest Japanese-English dictionary he could find and set to work.

“Hmm, let’s see, ‘Family’,” Quatre said quietly to himself as his finger ran down the neatly organized columns of words, all arranged loosely by definition. “O-kaa-san, mother; no, that’s not it... O-tou-san, father... no, that’s not it either....” He shook his head, thin, blonde bangs rattling in his face as he tried to dispel thoughts of his own father. Clearing his head, he continued down the list. “O-nii-san, brother; O-nee-san, sister... no....”

“Hey, Q! What’cha up to?” Duo’s voice interrupted his train of thought, causing the blond’s head to snap up in alarm. In front of him, Duo was hanging off the guardrail that ran in front of the first row of bleachers. “I’m bored, Q. Entertain me,” he commanded as he hoisted himself up onto the bar, his toes on the concrete edge of the grandstand underneath it.

Quatre rolled his eyes and said, “Look, Duo, not now. I’m kind of busy.” He jabbed his finger down at the open text book on his lap, hoping the gesture would be enough to explain.

Duo frowned and leaned further over the bar, his body bent into a right angle as he scrutinized the page. “Japanese?” he wondered, looking up with narrowed eyes. “What’s with everyone’s sudden interest in that damn language?”

“Duo, if you want to be in the loop so bad, you can borrow this book,” Quatre said patiently as he pushed Duo’s nose out of the pages of the text with his thumb. Seeing Duo’s unimpressed expression, he added with a smirk, “Better still, you can ask Heero to teach you. I’m sure you wouldn’t mind some private, one-on-one sessions with him now, would you?”

Duo’s body flickered almost unnoticeably between his solid and atomic state at the comment. “I always knew you were pure evil, Q!” he shouted, trying to sound as angry as he could with a sharp, red blush painted across his nose and cheeks. The way Quatre had phrased his particular words had sent a multitude of gutter-logged images flashing through Duo’s brain and a strange, tingling shiver flashing through his body. He silently thanked the powers that be that he had chosen to wear baggy, black cargo pants that morning.

“Yeah, I know,” Quatre said offhandedly as he looked back down at the book. “Hey, don’t you have a job or something? I’m pretty sure you’re the manager of the team currently holding practice.” Without even looking up, Quatre raised one hand high over his head and pointed to the lacrosse field and the boys running drills on it.

“Aw, Q, I don’t really do much,” Duo whined, straightening up and hanging backwards off the railing again. “That’s why I need you to come to the rescue and save me from the hell of boredom!”

“Maxwell! Get the fuck over here! I said now, you slacker!” came Wufei’s clamourous yell from the sidelines. “I need you to keep score for this scrimmage!” A quick look over Duo’s shoulder found Wufei standing by the team bench with his clipboard clutched tight in his white-knuckled hands, a vein throbbing on his forehead as he screamed. “What the hell do we keep you for!?”

“Argh, back to the salt mines,” Duo grumbled, throwing himself off the rail and landing on the plush, green grass. Quatre’s eyes flicked up long enough to see Duo’s long braid trail after its owner as he made his way over to the sidelines. A small chuckle escaped his lips as Wufei slapped the clipboard against Duo’s chest and forced one of the longhaired mechanic’s arms to hold it. By the wild hand motions that followed, Quatre figured that Wufei had launched into another one of his famous tirades.

“Hopefully Wufei’s ranting and Heero’s ass can keep him distracted,” Quatre mumbled to himself with a small grin as he went back to his research. A few moments later, Quatre yelped with excitement, finally coming across the word he’d been searching for. “Ojii-san... it means ‘grandfather’.” He tapped the small, printed hiragana next to the English version of the word. Furrowing his brow in thought, Quatre went back over the things he’d heard in Heero’s mind. “So what did Heero’s grandfather do to him?” he wondered, a frown pulling at the corners of his lips. “I have a really bad feeling,” he muttered, his free hand unconsciously rubbing his heart.

He wished that there was a way that he could control those sudden bursts of mind-feed so he could get the whole story. He had this sneaking suspicion that many of Heero’s secrets would lead up to something big. Unfortunately, asking Heero Yuy, of all people, to take a trip down a briar-ridden memory lane wasn’t exactly the most tactful or sensitive things to do. Next time I get one of those attacks, Quatre decided firmly, I’m going to be ready and I’ll figure out once and for all how to steady out the developments in my mutation.

A laugh from somewhere behind Quatre distracted him again. Twisting around, Quatre noticed Noin and Milliardo snogging higher up on the bleachers. Snapping the Japanese book closed, he shoved it into his book bag and scrambled up the rows of bleachers to the top of the grandstand. “Milliardo! Just the person I need to see!” he called out, pulling the flaxen-haired teen from kissing his girlfriend.

“Hey, quid fit, Q?” Milliardo greeted the short, blonde boy as he neared, raising his hand in greeting. The salutation went well with the tee-shirt Milliardo was wearing, which read ‘Si hoc legere scis nimium eruditionis habes’. Quatre laughed when he got close enough to read it, translating the Latin to mean ‘If you can read this, you’re overeducated’’. It was an amusing throwback to the Latin classes he’d taken for a few years.

Noin shook her head as Milliardo started to snort and chuckle as well. “You and your Latin jokes, Milli,” she sighed, putting a hand to her forehead. “The next thing you’ll be saying is that Latin isn’t a dead language.” She saw Milliardo open his mouth, about to make a comment, and she quickly waved him off. “Forget it; I don’t even want to hear it.” She faked a cough, concealing a muttered “Loser!” in the sound.

Milliardo shrugged and said to Quatre with a smile, “Lucy’s just jealous ‘cause I love words more than her.” He stuck his tongue out at his girlfriend, “Isn’t that right, Lucy?”

Noin pinched the bridge of her nose and squinted her eyes shut, though the smile on her face betrayed that she was amused by her boyfriend’s antics. Also laughing, Quatre sat down next to Noin, leaning on her shoulder as he tried to calm his own chuckles.

“So what brings you around to this neck of the woods, Quatre?” Milliardo asked finally, leaning his elbows on his knees so he could see Quatre on the other side of Noin.

“It happened again, Milliardo!” Quatre blurted without any preamble. “Just the other day, when Trowa, Duo, Heero and I were cleaning up one of the unused classrooms, it randomly happened!” He was flailing his arms with excitement, even after he had stopped talking due to his short breath.

“Whoa, slow,” Milliardo shook his head, confused. “What happened again?”

Quatre tapped his forehead, his eyes growing wide as he clarified. “That... thing that sometimes happens with Heero! You know, when I can hear his thoughts and all?” Still riding on his current train of thought, Quatre kept talking as his mind moved into a tangent. “Say, Milliardo, do you know anything about Heero’s family? He was thinking about his grandfather this time. It’s the most personal thing I’ve ever heard him--”

“Okay, okay, cease fire,” Milliardo waved his hands frantically, hoping to silence Quatre’s excited rambling. “Now what’s this about Heero’s grandfather?”

Quatre sighed and slowed down, hoping he sounded remotely sane this go around. “He was brooding about something, addressing his grandfather. He said something about not liking the way he’d been changed or something. Do you know anything about that?” Quatre cocked his head and looked at Milliardo with big, puppy-dog eyes.

“You do know that Heero’s adopted, don’t you?” Milliardo asked. Receiving the less-than-amused glare Quatre shot him, he amended, “Just checking, just checking.” More seriously, he went on, “Do you know if he meant his grandfather as in Trowa’s grandfather or his grandfather as in his grandfather?”

Quatre had never thought about that and suddenly found his excitement waning as he slowed down for this new road block. “Gee, I’m really not so sure,” he said, scratching behind one ear as he furrowed his brows. “He was just saying something about having something that was both a blessing and a curse,” Quatre remembered out loud for Milliardo’s benefit. “Said he was strong, but not perfect nor in control. Then he cursed his grandfather for changing him....” Quatre looked up and found himself staring into a pair of pale blue eyes that were wavering with concern. “What?” he demanded.

Noin turned to face Milliardo and quirked an eyebrow at him. “Does that mean anything to you, Milli?” she asked, also noticing Milliardo's pensive expression.

“Well, not exactly,” Milliardo admitted with a small shrug, “but it sounds like that first part had something to do with his... well....” Milliardo looked up at the sky, one hand churning around in circles as he tried to find his diction. “You do know about the whole thing that benched Wufei permanently?”

“I’ve heard snippets,” Quatre replied, leaning forward with interest. Here was another piece of the puzzle, he thought excitedly.

Hearing Quatre’s affirmative answer, Milliardo continued. “Well, I was there that day,” he said. “The game had been going on normally; Romefeller was ahead, even winning by a lot! Heero had the ball and was charging down the field, when all of the sudden, he slows down and teeters a little, like he’s going to fall over. Of course, that was the perfect chance for someone on the other team--I can’t remember for the life of me who we were playing--to steal the ball and make off for the other goal. The play moved in the opposite direction, leaving Heero by himself and looking pretty sick as he stared blankly into space. Then, he slowly turned around and, suddenly, he snapped back into action, speeding down the field. At first, it seemed like he was just trying to catch up with the game again, but he started making wild slashes and fouls against everyone he came across, never mind what team. There was no stopping him; everyone they sent out to try and hold him back got knocked away. Wufei had been the only one to actually challenge Heero, though all that earned him was an injury twice as worse as anyone else’s, even though he’s a pretty good martial artist.”

“I wonder if this has anything to do with what happened at the pizza place,” he muttered to himself, stroking his chin as he pondered the thought. Quatre snapped back up and demanded, “Did Heero hurt anyone besides Wufei? What was it like?”

“Jeez, I’m getting there! Some people just don’t appreciate a good story or the value of a word anymore,” Milliardo protested. Shaking his head hopelessly, he went into more detail. “If you were just glancing at the action, it looked like Heero was just mindlessly knocking people all over the place, but if you watched closely, you could see guys flying onto their back without Heero even swinging his stick at them. I swear he was moving faster than humanly possible. To me, it looked like he was showing signs of a low-developed mutation, or a mutated mutation, if that makes sense.” Milliardo shrugged and said in conclusion, “Of course, it’s all merely speculation.”

“Looks like more research for me,” Quatre said with a sigh.

“I can help you. I have to admit, I’ve always been rather curious about it myself,” Milliardo offered. “Most people were scared by all the chaos and were too busy trying to get away from the stadium to pay any attention, but I didn’t.” Milliardo’s lips flickered into a brief, nostalgic smile, “I guess it was just journalist instinct to be watching as carefully as I was. I doubt anybody would have really noticed if they were casually looking, really.”

“So it’s not common knowledge or anything, this little problem of Heero’s,” Noin mused. Seeing Milliardo shake his head negatively, she let out a sigh of relief. “At least I don’t feel like I’ve been living under a rock or something!”

“Yeah, they tried to cover the whole thing up. It was a humongous scandal. He got off with only having to spend a couple nights in the slammer before it was all cleared up,” Milliardo said. “So if you weren’t at the game, there’s little chance you would know. A lot of people brush it under the rug anyway because Heero’s so damn good at lacrosse and trashing his name would be bad news for the team, you know?” Milliardo let out a small snort of disapproval, “I mean, I like Heero a lot, but it just goes to show what a corrupt hierarchy the school system is.”

Quatre, shook his head in disbelief as he started watching the lacrosse scrimmage down on the field again. He could see Trowa in goal, and after a quick scan of the field, Heero, who seemed to stand out among all the other players even though he was wearing an identical jersey to the rest of his team. His eyes tracked the Japanese boy’s movements, following him even as Wufei subbed him out for someone else. “Heh, we should tell Duo. Maybe he’ll shut up and stop making things so rough for him,” Quatre commented as Heero headed over to the bench where the manager was sitting.

Almost immediately, Noin reacted to Quatre’s comment. She grabbed his arm and spun him around to face her. “God, no, Q! Don’t even think of telling Duo about Heero!” she insisted adamantly. “You might end up doing way more harm than good.”

“Why not?” Quatre wondered incredulously. “Maybe then he’d actually admit that he likes Heero instead of pretending like he doesn’t. It’s obvious they’ve gotten way closer, but he acts ashamed of their friendship,” Quatre argued, glancing down at the team bench, where Heero and Duo were sitting side-by-side.

Noin let out a small noise of exasperation. “Come on; you’re his best friend,” she said. “You should know that he’d either get mad for not being told, or worse yet, Heero would just become another guy to him.”

“What?” Quatre was confused by Noin’s second reason.

Milliardo took over for her from there. “I think what Lucy means is that half the reason Heero gets under Duo’s skin so bad is because he’s convinced they’re so different. That’s why he stands out,” he explained. He nodded his head down to the two sitting on the bench. “But really, they’re not all that different at all when it comes down to it.”

“I guess that’s a good point,” Quatre agreed, seeing what they were talking about was very legit. Narrowing his eyes, Quatre recounted what he had walked in on the day before, not even realizing he was speaking out loud until it was a tad too late. “But I mean, really, he kisses the guy, and the second someone sees it, he flips out and jumps a mile away.”

Both Noin and Milliardo looked like they had swallowed flies. “Who kissed who?” Noin managed to stammer, wetting her dry lips.

Quatre froze for a moment when he realized what he just said, and then relaxed, figuring that it was too late to be crying over spilt milk. With a slightly amused smirk, he told them what had happened. “Trowa and I wandered in on Heero and Duo while they were sucking the tongues out of each other’s faces.” Quatre laughed and added, “I might add that Mr. Paranoia down there looked pretty pissed off when we came in too.”

“Well, well, isn’t that just the most interesting turn of events?” Milliardo drawled conversationally, reaching up over his head in a lazy stretch. “And here my sister thinks it’s all an inside joke of theirs.”

“I somehow don’t take Heero for the joking type,” Noin said smugly.

“Oh, believe me, Heero has his own particular brand of humour, but I can assure you it’s purely cynicism,” Milliardo assured her, patting her affectionately on the back. “He would never lead anyone on a leash or toy with emotions for all the gold in China. No, it’s pretty obvious that whatever he’s got going on with Duo runs far deeper than just some ploy to get ‘Lena out of his hair.”

“Though you have to admit, getting her out of his hair would be a nice side-benefit,” Noin commented with a wry smile. “Don’t get me wrong, but Relena’s a nice kid. A little naive, a little selfish, and more than a little desperate for attention, but still a nice kid. She still has her strong points.”

“Yeah,” Milliardo agreed distractedly, his eyes still trained on the backs of Heero and Duo. He suddenly noticed that they were sitting pretty close to one another, shoulder-to-shoulder. He was just able to make out a water bottle being passed between them.

Noin followed Milliardo’s gaze to try and figure out what was distracting him so much, Quatre looking down not soon after. The only thing she could come up with to say when she saw their interaction was, “Morons, aren’t they?”

Both Milliardo and Quatre nodded their heads in solemn agreement. Silence ensued as they mutely watched the rest of the lacrosse scrimmage. Heero and Duo were still sitting on the bench together, and strangely, Quatre seemed to find their interaction more interesting than the actual practice, settling to watch them instead. “I wonder if Duo knows anything about Heero’s family,” Quatre wondered out loud with a sigh.

“He might. You should ask him,” Noin said with a shrug, which was cut short with a whoop of excitement as Trowa made a particularly daring save on the field. That brought another thought to mind; “You could always ask Trowa too,” Noin suggested. “I mean, they are virtually brothers.”

“I suppose I....” Quatre trailed off, thinking back to something Trowa had said to him about everyone in the whole world having uncanny obsessions with Heero. Despite the fact that it had been an offhanded comment, it had carried a certain air of accusation. He usually just told himself that he was imagining things to make his relationship with Trowa seem more dramatic, but it still managed to bother him anyway. Was Trowa trying to insinuate that I have a thing for Heero? Quatre wondered, not sure if he could believe it. Is he... jealous?

“Quatre? Snap out of it, man.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Quatre shook himself out of his daze and grounded himself in reality again. “Yeah, I’ll go ask Duo,” Quatre went on, already standing up and starting down the grandstand’s steep incline, not noticing the worried stares Noin and Milliardo were giving his retreating back; he was too busy brooding to himself as he descended the concrete steps towards the field. “Someone’s not telling something,” Quatre said to himself doggedly, “and I’ll be damned if that something goes and screws things up!”

(x) X (x)

“Heero?” Duo rapped lightly on the bedroom door at the top of the stairs, ear pressed against it as he listened for a response from inside as he jiggled the locked doorknob. “Yo, Heero? You there, dude?”

“Aa,” came the low reply. “Ohairi.”

Duo stared at the blank door quizzically, wondering how Heero expected him to just wander inside when the door was locked. He gave the handle another experimental twist and, much to his surprise, swung the door open. “Your door sucks, Heero,” he announced drolly after almost landing on his face when the door gave way.

Heero was sitting at his desk, leaning back dangerously in his chair as he played catch with a white ball and his lacrosse stick, his eyes focused intently on something on his computer screen. “It’s simple if you know the trick to it,” he said, eyes still trained intently on the screen, almost as if Duo almost splattering himself on the carpet was an everyday occurrence.

“Oh,” Duo answered, dusting his pants of some imaginary grit. Finished with his dramatic entrance, Duo strolled over to the large four-poster bed and collapsed onto it, sending the sheets and blankets all over the place with the impact. “Okay, my geeky friend,” Duo said, turning his head so he could see Heero, still tottering in his chair with the lacrosse stick. “Time for you to pull yourself away from the computer and come outside so you can play with some real toys. It’s not becoming of a lacrosse champ to also be the poster child for the pale kids.”

“Duo, if you want to work on the Mini, I’m not stopping you,” Heero said, lowering the front two legs of his chair back down to the floor, only to lift them back up again. He nodded at the computer, saying, “But I want to see if this software works or not.”

“Oh, so you have to sit and wait for it to load!” Duo made a small noise of discontent. “Come on, even I know enough about computers to know that it’ll still be there when you get back!”

“No, no, you don’t understand,” Heero protested, still having yet to look away from his precious laptop. “It took me almost a month to write this program, and then an additional two weeks to make a version that was both PC- and Mac-compatible. And I need ‘net access to use it and I don’t think that I can get--”

Heero looked like he was actually going to go onto a rant, when Duo cut him off. “Whoa, since when were you the motor-mouth?” he asked with a wry grin as he sat up.

Heero stopped, letting his chair drop to the floor again as he at last turned towards Duo, looking actually very sheepish. “Sorry,” he said with a slight shrug. “I guess I just haven’t had anyone to really obsess over my work with. No one I know really cares about....” He trailed off, Prussian blue eyes darting off to the side for a moment before settling on Duo again. “Well, it’s not important,” he finished, distracted by the memories and images the sight of Duo sprawled on his bed was conjuring up.

“Sure it is!” Duo piped up, flinging himself into an upright position. He bounced to his feet and ambled over towards Heero. “You can tell me all about it while I tinker around with your Cooper’s engine,” he said, leaning on the back of Heero’s chair as he snatched the lacrosse ball out of the air before it was able to land in the pocket of Heero’s stick again.

“You don’t really need me to supervise you,” Heero said, his eyes longingly returning to the computer’s screen, which displayed a slowly-filling installation bar. “You always used to make sure I wasn’t around whenever you came to work on the car....”

“That was before I decided I liked you!” Duo spilled out before he realized what he’d just said. Damn my impulsive mouth, he thought when he finally replayed what he’d just said. “And Quatre asked me... some stuff that I wanted to talk to you about,” he added slowly, purposely avoiding the widened, Prussian eyes that were casting hot shadows on his face.

A smirk pulled one corner of Heero’s mouth up slightly, the expression on his face speaking volumes more than anything he could have said with words.

Duo scratched the back of his head and sucked in a huge breath of air. “Uhhh.... yeah,” he assented reluctantly, his eyes darting back and forth nervously until they settled on Heero. He glanced down at the floor, suddenly finding Heero’s sock-clad feet very interesting. “I really do,” he admitted softly, noting to himself that Heero had very appealing feet and good calves. “A lot more than I ever thought I could.” By then, his voice was almost an inaudible murmur.

“Aa,” Heero hummed with understanding, leaning his lacrosse stick against the side of the desk. He was tempted to say something of a similar nature to Duo in return, but decided not to; he had always known his feelings for Duo and suggesting that he had only just figured them out would have been a lie. His eyes flitted to the computer; the installer bar had progressed another two per cent.

“Oh, come on, ‘Ro. You need a breath of fresh air,” Duo rolled his eyes when he saw Heero distracting himself with his program again. He grabbed Heero’s wrist and pulled, jerking the other boy suddenly to his feet with a bit of a stumble. “You could also do with a breath of fresh Maxwell wit and charm,” Duo added with a large, cheesy grin.

Heero looked at his computer and then back at Duo’s beckoning smile, then back at the computer again. He glanced back at Duo, who was waggling his eyebrows enticingly, and finally turned to the computer, letting out a small, forlorn sigh at the white piece of machinery, as if he were bidding it goodbye and apologizing for abandoning it.

“Aw, it’s not like it has feelings, Heero,” Duo groaned helplessly as he watched the Japanese boy and his beloved laptop. “Now hurry your cute little butt up,” Duo said, daring to steer Heero away from the desk by pushing him from behind at the hips. “My fingers are aching for some grease and metal.”

Heero allowed himself to be propelled towards the door, just able to grab a sketchbook and a pencil set from the desk before it was out of reach. Tucking the art supplies under one arm, he was extremely aware of the two flat palms pressed against the small of his back and the long fingers curling over his hips. Vaguely, he wondered if Duo was aware of the way his simple touch could make Heero feel like he was on fire. Out of Heero’s room and down the stairs they went, Duo’s hands glued to Heero all the way, even when Heero started walking on his own accord. Neither of them seemed to mind the contact much so they both silently opted to not mention anything about the needless touching.

As they neared the garage, Heero was surprised to see the rolling doors open, revealing the dark, messy interior and the glistening ruby on wheels sitting just inside. An old, beat-up, blue pickup truck Heero had never seen before sat in the driveway.

“Oh, that rusty shit-bucket is Hilde’s,” Duo answered Heero’s unasked question when he noticed the questioning stare he was giving the unfamiliar vehicle. “She dropped me off and left the thing with all the extra parts we dug up for your baby in the back. I told her I’d call her when we’re finished.”

“Oh,” Heero nodded as Duo let go of him and bounded towards the truck. He smiled as he watched Duo gleefully unlatch the back of the truck and start to unload various components for the rebuilding of the Cooper’s engine, cheerfully whistling all the while. Heero was very tempted to sit down, right there in the middle of the driveway, and sketch a hasty drawing of Duo as he went about his work, but he instead opted to help. Leaving his art supplies just inside the garage, he walked over to the truck to help Duo unload. Taking a piece of machinery out of the car, he examined it closely with interest as he carried it towards the Cooper. “Duo?” he wondered aloud, still focused intently on the metal contraption. “Where did you get this?”

Duo stopped, setting down the armload of parts he was holding. With a sheepish grin, he said, “Uh... found them?”

Heero arched a skeptical brow. “You just happened across parts that are marked with an official government seal?” He pointed to the part in his hand, gesturing to the stamped ingrain of a circled, five-pointed star. The letters ‘MRP’ were printed underneath the circle in a very official-looking manner. “Duo, these are registered under the government’s MRP Agency. It’s illegal for a civilian to have them!”

Duo turned slightly red when he realized he had been found out and beaten. “Don’t worry, Heero,” he said striding over to where the Japanese boy stood at the mouth of the garage, his eyes glaring straight at Duo. “I would never put anything illegal into your car. I have a friend on the inside who snagged them for me. If anyone gets in trouble, it’ll be him, not me or you, okay?” By this point, he was standing toe-to-toe with Heero, gently wheedling the piece of machinery in Heero’s hands into his own. A rebel hand was cupping Heero’s cheek as he did so; “I wouldn’t ever sell you out. Not you, not anybody, okay, Heero?” Duo assured him.

Heero’s eyes slipped halfway closed as he leaned into Duo’s palm. Opening his eyes again, he looked up at Duo and gave him a curt nod, his cheek still cuddling Duo’s hand. “I believe you,” he said.

Duo’s hand dropped as he blinked curiously at Heero. “Just like that, you believe me?” Duo asked, his mouth hanging open a little. “I give you this far-fetched story that I could have just made up on the fly and you believe me, no questions asked?”

“You never lie,” Heero answered simply with a tiny shrug. “That’s all I need to know.”

“Well... well... the fact that I never lie could be a lie too!” Duo fought back with a snap of his fingers. “How do you know that you’re not being suckered?”

“Must you always play Devil’s advocate?” Heero asked with an exasperated sigh. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Duo’s slim body, resting his chin on the taller boy’s shoulder. Feeling a large intake of air in Duo’s chest, Heero murmured into Duo’s ear, “Don’t even say it. I know you’ll insist that you are.”

“But....” Duo protested, quivering a little in Heero’s embrace. His arms were pinned to his sides, the engine piece he’d pilfered from Heero hanging limply in one hand as he tried to regulate his breathing.

“I just... inside, I know that you’re honest as honest can be,” Heero whispered sincerely, the gentle breeze of his words toying with the loose strands of hair wisping out over Duo’s ears. “You say you never lie, and I believe it. It’s as simple as that.”

“How do I know you’re not lying?” Duo wondered aloud, unsure of where the thought stemmed from. (It would have been very illogical for Duo to doubt Heero’s integrity in such a situation, but for some reason, Heero seemed to have that effect on Duo’s rationality.)

Heero pulled back slightly so that he could look Duo straight in the eye. “Lie? What reason would I have to lie?” he asked. “Must you always be so mistrustful of people, Duo?”

Duo stiffened and became a little defensive. “Yes, thanks. When you’re a mutant, it’s kind of hard to tell who’s lining up to be your friend and who’s there to throw stones!” he snapped a bit more harshly than he’d meant to. When he saw Heero wince a little at his tone, he suddenly felt the urge to amend it. He let go of Heero and wandered over to the Cooper, where he sat down on the hood and continued in a softer, almost mournful voice. “When I was a brat, even among people I called friends, no one really trusted me. Maybe that’s why I throw that stupid motto of mine around all the time. I guess I don’t blame them, me being a mutant and a thief and all, that is,” he said with a small chuckle. “It’s just sort of what I’m used to, I suppose.”

“It doesn’t matter what the world believes, Duo,” Heero answered, slowly advancing towards the Mini and shyly perching himself on the edge of the car. His hand sneaked across the gleaming red hood towards Duo’s lax hand and grabbed it. “As long as you know you’re telling the truth, then fuck what anyone else thinks.”

“Been spending too much time with me, it looks like,” Duo said with a laugh. Becoming nostalgic, he looked up into the dark rafters and started to tell a story from his childhood, once again unsure as to where the urge had generated from. “I remember times when it’d be me versus the gang, and the only one who’d ever stand up for me would be this one little psychic kid, a telekinetic. He was the only other mutant I knew as a brat and the one person who was ever really my friend. Even when we got rounded up into the orphanage, he stuck by me, was always waiting whenever I got sent back by some family who’d changed their minds about keeping me. Father and Sister always made up some sweet-nothing story about how I was special and loved anyway... but I always knew it was bull. But this kid... this kid would always know what to say, and I’d know it wasn’t some little lovey-dovey story he’d concocted to make me feel better. It was real and honest and somehow... I... I knew it.”

Heero’s hand was clamped tightly down on Duo’s, pressing it into the red hood of the Cooper. He looked over at Duo with a warm expression on his face. “Why did you tell me that story?” he asked softly.

“I don’t know. It just seemed like the right thing to say,” Duo murmured, bringing his spinning head back down to earth. “You kind of remind me of that kid, you know? Somehow, I know that everything you say to me is sincere too, not some comfort story or a crap shot.” Hanging his head slightly and only daring to peek out at Heero from behind the safety of his long bangs, he added, “You even kiss me when I’m sad. He used to kiss me too, right before we went to bed. And he’d tell me I was his best friend and always would be. I used to think he was an angel. I’d tell Sister Helen so all the time, that I talked to an angel and that he loved me best.” Duo laughed to himself, shaking his head. “God, I was such a dumb kid. Angels aren’t real.”

“I would kiss you every night, Duo,” Heero responded quietly. “I want to be able to kiss you goodnight for the rest of my life.”

Here, Duo would have inserted some snide comment about how corny Heero was, but when he looked up at met Heero’s eyes, he found that despite the sappiness of his words, he was being truthful. This sparked a train of thought in Duo’s mind that found him wondering what it would be like to have Heero there, next to him all night and every night to kiss him goodnight and tell him he’d be there. Now that Duo thought on it, he realized he had never had someone like that ever in his entire life and that it was something he would have liked to very much. “Can you kiss me now?” he asked in the same low voice.

Heero nodded slowly and leaned forward to press his lips against Duo’s, happily surprised to find Duo responding more enthusiastically than he ever had before. It seemed like Duo was growing more comfortable with him, proof in the fact that he had initiated this show of affection all on his own, complete with childhood sob-story. Pulling away, he said, “We can kiss whenever you want to.”

“Then let’s go again,” Duo ordered, somehow sounding a little dreamy despite the gruff manner of his tone. Even as he slammed his mouth against Heero’s in a far rougher kiss than any of the others they’d shared, there was not a sense of violence in the gesture. Considering Duo’s experiences with kisses were not only few and far between, but also extremely unpleasant, this was quite a statement. “Oh yeah,” he managed to grunt in the brief moment they took to suck in a fresh lungful of air. “That’s what I’m talkin’ about.” Before either of them knew it, they were kissing again.

“Getting good at this, Duo,” Heero commented with a soft touch of amusement as he slid closer to Duo, their thighs now flush against each other as their intimacy increased. His arms were around Duo’s waist as the mechanic pulled him into his lap, an arm wrapped around Heero’s legs to hold him steady in the awkward sideways position.

“Isn’t that just lucky for you?” Duo’s other hand was lost in the thick, messy brown hair that flopped over Heero’s head, fingers pressed urgently against his scalp as he brought Heero’s face near to his again. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he panted breathlessly.

Suddenly, he felt a hand slip underneath his hoodie and tee-shirt, just bordering on dipping below the waistline of his pants. He yelped and jumped, causing Heero to jerk his errant hand away in shock. Heero looked sheepish and embarrassed by his action and quickly climbed off Duo’s lap and retreated quickly to snatch up his sketchbook and pencils.

“Heero...” Duo started off, standing up and taking a few steps towards his handsome friend, who was currently trying his very best to avoid the longhaired teen’s eyes.

“I’m sorry! I got carried away,” Heero said hastily, the alien awkwardness he felt taking control of his speech. “The last thing I want to do is rush you into something you don’t want,” he mumbled in addition, looking down at the floor as he toed it with the tip of his sneaker.

The boyish, vulnerable image was strangely endearing to Duo, making him quickly forget what he had been about to say. “I don’t mind, really,” Duo explained, hoping that Heero was able to tell that he meant it. “I just didn’t expect it, is all. I didn’t think we’d... err... that you’d want to do anything like that so soon and....” Duo trailed off, sensing that he was starting to talk in circles, something he was prone to do when he was nervous. Proof of this was found in his left hand, which was starting to dissipate into a cloud of particles.

Heero stood clutching his sketchbook, sucking in hissed breaths between tense lips as he looked Duo over. At first, Duo thought that Heero was sizing him up, trying to decide whether or not he believed him. But when he saw Heero gently nod his head up and down once, he realized that the fear had been a silly one and that Heero had accepted his answer without question. The apprehension around them drained away almost instantly as they both stepped into motion again, Heero making himself comfortable on the floor to draw while Duo returned his focus to the Cooper.

“Say, Heero,” Duo commented as he carried the last of the cargo in Hilde’s truck into the garage, “how’d you know where these parts came from? Not even I noticed those government logos,” he said with a laugh, glancing over at Heero. He crouched over some of the spare parts, scrutinizing the logo. “Where’d you find out about these? You hack into something?”

“Aa,” Heero assented softly, his attention riveted to the drawing taking shape beneath his pencil tip. “Another curiosity.”

“You’re way nosier than I thought you’d be,” Duo said wryly, standing upright again as he strolled over towards the shelves that lined one wall of the garage in search of the toolbox he’d stashed there earlier that week.

“I’m only nosy about things I have good reason to be,” Heero answered plainly as he slid the pencil he had been using behind one ear, the earrings looping the top of it casting silver slivers of light on the pencil’s dark orange wood. “Both my father and my grandfather were very involved with the MRP Agency. Inevitably, so was I, in a way....”

“So you were in the know. I guess that makes sense then,” Duo assessed with a hum of understanding. He was standing by the Cooper again, and in the process of popping the hood open to get at the engine. After a pause, he suddenly snapped his fingers, almost causing the hood’s lid to slam down. “Oh! That reminds me!” he exclaimed, spinning around. “Q was wondering something about... your grandfather? It was a totally weird question, but he kept prodding me on what I knew about your family.” Duo’s face scrunched up in thought; he wasn’t quite sure where Quatre’s interest in Heero had stemmed from, and he had to admit he had been jealously worried that Quatre had some feelings for Heero he wasn’t sharing. (The idea that Quatre did, he eventually decided, was stupid for a myriad of reasons and he squashed the idea, despite the fact that it still sometimes niggled the back of his mind from time to time.)

The hollow sound of a pencil hitting the concrete and rolling across it echoed throughout the garage. “O-jii-san?” Heero’s whispered voice sounded wary, though there was a certain bitter twang to it. HIs eyes narrowed slightly, “What about him?”

“He was wondering if you got on well with him or something,” Duo said with a shrug, noting the haunted expression in Heero’s eyes. “I can’t honestly imagine why, though, and I guess it’s kind of stupid. No big deal if you don’t want to talk about it or--”

“No, it’s fine,” Heero cut him off, shaking his head. “It’s really not a problem if you want to ask about my past. You told me about yours, so we should continue the game fairly.”

The Japanese boy’s eyes dropped to the floor, searching for the pencil he’d dropped, though something told Duo that Heero was procrastinating. “You really don’t have to say anything,” Duo insisted when he saw the way the pencil rattled in Heero’s hand when he lifted it off the ground. “Q’s notorious for being a brown-noser. It’s no big deal if you don’t want him to find out about--”

“I never said you could tell Quatre,” Heero snapped tersely, his eyes darting to Duo. They were wide and frightened-looking, the twin, midnight blue stars quivering like agitated water droplets. “But,” he went on in a dull whisper, “I’ll tell you, Duo. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“I won’t tell.” Duo held his first three fingers together in the air beside his temple, sealing the oath with scout’s honour. “Promise.”

“It’s not that I don’t trust him; I didn’t mean it that way,” Heero went on, feeling guilty for sounding like he doubted Quatre’s integrity. “It’s just... well, my childhood, I never really talked about it before, not even to Trowa, that’s all.”

“Hey, no need to explain yourself, ‘Ro!” Duo brushed it off with a sweep of one hand. He closed the Cooper’s hood and plopped down on the floor, scootching over next to Heero, who was nervously scratching one of his pencils back and forth across the top of his page. Offhandedly, Duo noticed that Heero had been sketching him again. Leaning close to the lacrosse player, he murmured, “Believe me, I understand why you’d wanna keep it bottled up, pal. Life is crap sometimes.”

“But not always,” Heero added with a soft smile that lighted his face when his eyes settled on the longhaired youth beside him. “Life can be heaven too,” he murmured, his hand groping for Duo’s and finding it lax on the floor between them.

Duo smiled at Heero with a knowing look that said volumes more than any words could.

Heero closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall right behind him, his hand still laying on top of Duo’s. “My father, Odin Lowe--I told you about him before--was an okay man. He worked hard with the government and made sure my life with him was as nice as he could afford to make it, which meant he had to work all the time,” Heero began slowly. “I ended up being one of those kids who was an adult before he was a child. I grew up slowly, by myself, while he threw himself into his job; I reached maturity the day he died--”

Heero was unable to go on for a moment as a pair of strong arms flung themselves around his neck, burying his nose into the soft, thick cotton of Duo’s dark red hoodie. He blinked in confusion a few times, not sure what to make of this hug, which was so unlike any hug he had ever received before. His teammates would give him those rough, macho hugs jocks were so fond of whenever they were successful on the lacrosse field; Odin had hugged him once or twice in instances he could vaguely remember and Trowa sometimes put his arm around Heero’s shoulder.

But none of those hugs were quite like this. It went beyond the simple mechanics of it, too. There was something about the way Duo was holding him and stroking the top of his head that communicated so much more. Somewhere in the confines of his arms, Heero realized that his affection for Duo was no longer one-sided. The discovery that there was someone on the world who actually loved him genuinely, despite his faults, despite his weaknesses; someone who was real and not just a shadow of an idea or only a hollow shell. Somehow, he could feel everything that made Heero himself pulsating with life beneath Duo’s skin. They were the same; they were different; they were one.

Still leaning against Duo’s chest, practically reclining in Duo’s lap, Heero went on with his story. “I suppose it was for the best I turned out that way,” he reflected with the slightest hint of sorrow. “When I went to live with my grandfather, I found him to be even more work-oriented than my old man. He was part of the team of scientists that founded the MRP Agency and he was madly in love with it.”

“Is that why you ran away?” Duo asked, his voice a deep rumble in his chest that vibrated pleasantly through Heero’s slim body. “Were you trying to find love?”

“I-Iie. Even though I was older than most children, I still had this strange innocence left inside. I was so... so certain he loved me, and like a fool, I loved him,” Heero shook his head sadly, his eyes downcast and tracing the coiled end of Duo’s braid, which snaked around them and touched the side of Heero’s leg. Slim, charcoal-smudged fingers clenched a handful of Duo’s hoodie as Heero recounted, “His love for me ended in the lab. I was merely a convenience. When I finally got the brains to realize that... that’s when I ran. More than six years ago, and I’m still running....”

Duo was amazed at Heero’s strength and willpower. Here was a boy who, despite having a family, had experienced as little affection and as much betrayal by those who were supposed to have cared as Duo had. And yet, all Duo could do was sit back and rail against the horrors of the world, wearing his rage on his sleeve for the world to see. Heero was someone Duo had never in a million years expected to have such a history; the Japanese lacrosse star had always acted indifferent, like nothing in the world affected him as he sat high up on his pedestal and frowned at its pettiness. That assessment couldn’t have been any more wrong, for Heero was just as down-to-earth as Duo was. He had been to the same hell Duo had come from. And now, here they sat, together in perfect understanding of one another: two children who had never been young.

“You must think I’m a terrible coward,” Heero said, drawing Duo suddenly out of his thoughts. Ironically, his words contradicted the very things Duo was just admiring about Heero. “You stand up to your fears and flip them off without even blinking twice. I just... run....”

“It’s not always an act of cowardice to run away, you know,” Duo commented with what he hoped was an uplifting grin as he pulled away from Heero enough to flash said smile at him. “Sometimes, it’s the wise ones who run,” he said seriously. “I mean, come on; think about it. What might have happened to you if you’d stayed with your psycho granddad? He might have really fucked you up doing... whatever he did.”

“It was gene manipulation,” Heero supplied, reluctantly freeing himself from Duo’s arms and settling back on his hands. “He wanted to see if he could force regular genes from a 10 down to a mutated level.”

“Unnatural mutants?” Duo quirked an eyebrow, unsure if he should have been intrigued or disgusted by the idea. “Like mutating regular humans in the lab? Is that what it was?”

“Basically,” Heero nodded. “Though he tried his little experiment on mutants too. What he was after was some kind of super-mutant with multiple abilities. For what purpose, I can’t even begin to imagine.” Heero shuddered at the memory, suddenly feeling very cold.

“It’s not impossible to have more than one mutation,” Duo said, furrowing his brow and leaning his chin into his palm. On an afterthought, he mused, “Although it is pretty rare to find a mutant who does....”

“Too rare, apparently. At least, that’s what O-jii-san kept insisting to his teammates,” said Heero, reaching up to remove the pencil from behind his ear. He started to absently twirl the wooden writing implement around his fingers. “It was a bad project. It was....” Here, Heero stopped talking, his eyes becoming blank as he stared into nothingness for a moment. Then, with a loud swallow and a hushed voice, he continued. “You remember that plague?”

Duo stiffened, a rusty nod of his head the only movement he dared to make. He hardly even breathed. He was only dimly aware of Heero’s hand as it snaked out to grab Duo’s shirt for reassurance.

“That was O-jii-san’s fault,” he whispered, his grip on Duo’s sleeve tightening so much that he pinched some of Duo’s flesh between his fingers, nails digging into his skin. Duo hardly even registered the pain as Heero offered the reason behind the incident. “He tried so many things on his lab rats. He cultured the plague to test an injected mutation he’d... he’d tried on me,” Heero’s voice wavered. Despite that, the story didn’t end there. “It was a failure,” Heero said. “His very controlled virus became unstable and exploded... right while I was standing there. That’s where all those scars on my back are from, the ones I tried to hide by getting that tattoo.” As if it was painful to even speak the memory, Heero finished the tale. “I was stronger than most of his lab rats and therefore, luckier.”

“By luckier, you mean alive, don’t you.” Duo’s voice was low; the words were not a question, but a simple statement, gloomy and morbid. Heaven knew that Duo knew exactly what it meant to equate life with luck. Duo didn’t want to probe deeper into the matter to a point of gross discomfort, but he was smart enough to figure out that Heero’s grandfather was the reason for the momentary lapses of insanity that befell Heero. Things were slowly beginning to slide into place.

“Alive and with most of my sanity,” Heero answered with the same even tone, which was slowly climbing in volume again. “To say the least, the dead ones were luckier than some of the ones who went crazy.”

“Where’s your granddad now, anyway?” Duo wondered, suddenly fearful that this raving lunatic was on the loose and possibly after Heero. Certainly, Duo might have been being a tiny bit paranoid, but he knew from personal experience that ghosts like that never really went away, no matter how fast you ran or how well you hid.

Heero sighed, raking his hand through his wild, dark brown hair. Hand frozen on the top of his scalp, thick tufts of hair swept back beneath his palm and sticking up between his fingers, he squinted his eyes shut and thought. “I think I remember seeing a small article in the newspaper that said he’d gotten kicked out of the MRP by his colleagues,” Heero said, letting the tension leave his hand, his hair flopping back into its usual, unruly state. “Apparently they were not pleased by his experiments and found them inhumane. I left before that, though. Been fighting my way through life the hard way ever since. But at least I’m still alive, I guess.”

“Well that’s a relief,” Duo sighed, though he still felt a knot of apprehension swimming in the pit of his stomach. “What was this maniac’s name anyway?”

“I don’t know,” Heero said with an embarrassed shrug. “I only knew him as Dr. J.”

Duo’s eyes narrowed a little. “That rings a bell somehow,” he murmured, trying to place the name and where he’d heard it before. “I could swear I’ve heard that somewhere.”

“Maybe you read the article in the paper?” Heero suggested. The fear in his stomach was festering at Duo’s recognition of J’s name. It would either mean that J had been to this town, was somehow tracking him down, or, worse still, had been acquainted with Duo in the past. If J was near, that meant Heero would have to pack up and keep on running. It would mean starting over. It would mean losing Duo.

“Oh yeah! I remember now!” Duo pounded his fist into the open palm of his other hand. “Remember that piece of paper that had the address on it for the race? It was the address of some guy named J!” Duo’s beaming face darkened almost immediately though. “It’s not a good thing, is it?” he said solemnly.

Heero shook his head negatively, suddenly feeling very ill. Trying hard to regulate his harsh breathing, he rested his hands on his stomach, as if doing so would somehow ease the nausea he felt swelling there. Still feeling the uncomfortable swishing of gastric juices inside, he clambered shakily to his feet, feeling the desperate urge to get himself to the bathroom quickly. One hand still clawing his stomach, the other pressed flat against his mouth, Heero started to stumble out of the garage.

“Heero?” Duo called after him, getting to his feet as well. He hurried after Heero, catching up with him just in time to catch the Japanese boy as he faltered, doubling over in the middle of the driveway and letting a mouthful of bile splatter onto the brick surface. “Aw, Jesus, ‘Ro!” Duo cried when he saw Heero throw up, still supporting the lacrosse player as another bout of sickness overtook him. “S’okay, ‘Ro. You’ll feel better once you get all that crap out of your system,” Duo said in a soothing voice as he smoothed Heero’s thick bangs out of his face and held them plastered against the top of his head, out of the way.

“O-tou-san’s gonna kill me if he sees this mess in the middle of the driveway,” Heero whispered hoarsely with a very distinguished swallow. With Duo’s help, he rose shakily to his feet and started to move as quickly as he could towards the back kitchen door.

“Don’t worry about it, Heero,” Duo assured him as they crossed the driveway. “I’ll clean it up for you later, okay? Just try and keep it down until we can get to the bathroom or something.”

“Aa,” was the only thing able to escape Heero’s lips before he was forced to cover them again in an effort to keep another surge of stomach fluid down as they walked through the back door. Before Duo could say anything, Heero had wrested himself from Duo’s grip and rushed to the sink where he proceeded to empty his mouth of the vile substance.

“Man, ‘Ro,” Duo said as he came up behind Heero to lend his support again, “I’d never have taken you for the sort who gets nervous-sick.” He smoothed Heero’s bangs out of his face like he’d been doing before as Heero drooped his head down into the sink again.

A tiny laugh rose up from Heero. “Now I know it’s got to be you,” he murmured softly, eyes flicking over in Duo’s direction.

“Got to be me, what?” Duo arched a confused brow, venturing to loosen the supporting hand on Heero’s waist to grab a glass from the nearby cupboard. He flicked the tap on and filled the cup, setting it by the sink for Heero to grab whenever he wanted, his other hand all the while cradling Heero’s head gently.

“The one who loves me; the one who I love,” Heero said, a dark red blush that contrasted greatly with his ashen skin colouring his cheeks. “Real love isn’t knights on white horses, but the one who’ll... hold your hair out of your face while you puke into the sink.” It felt a little strange to be saying something like that, and he was sure he sounded ludicrous to Duo. In fact, he was half-expecting the longhaired mechanic to just burst out into spells of laughter at what he’d said, but Heero couldn’t deny that what he’d said was how he honestly felt.

The hand atop Heero’s head slid back a little, causing his shorter bangs to fall carelessly over his eyes again. Duo’s eyes were riveted to Heero, the weight of his words finally sinking in. With a small breath that felt like the largest gasp of air he’d ever inhaled, Duo leaned down to Heero’s ear and whispered, “No matter what happens, I’ll always be there to keep the hair out of your face.”

Heero tilted his face slightly, his eyes locked with Duo’s. Instead of the laughing expression that usually danced in Duo’s indigo eyes, was a serious gaze that was as sincere as ever. “Duo....”

He found himself speaking directly into Duo’s wet mouth as he kissed him again. It was a brief, but passion-filled moment of contact, and it managed to shut Heero up.

“Real love is also the one who’ll smooch with ya after you’ve upchucked into the sink,” Duo said wryly, his blunt words causing a smile to grace Heero’s features. They looked at each other in silence, the peacefulness of the moment broken when Duo suddenly made a face and started groping for the glass of water. An unexpected laugh erupted from Heero as Duo threw his head back and slugged the entire glass. “Real love, however,” Duo choked out as he set the cup down, “does not necessarily mean that kissing always tastes good, especially after the before-mentioned upchucking. I sure hope you’re feeling better and you have a lot of mouthwash, Yuy, ‘cause, well, you know....” Duo scratched the side of his head, his lips quirked into an adorable grin that was larger on one side of his face than the other. “I’ll kiss you again once that’s all taken care of.”

“Always trying to make a point, aren’t you?” Heero chuckled. Calming his laughter, Heero took the glass from Duo and refilled it for himself. “And yes, I am feeling better, thank you.”

“I’m glad,” Duo said, patting Heero’s head before removing his hand, all of Heero’s untamed, mahogany-brown bangs tumbling back into place.

Holding the glass still beneath the faucet, a thought came to Heero as he thought back to what had just happened. “Duo?” he ventured, wiping his mouth with the back of his other hand. “Do you love me?” The water was overflowing the glass and pouring over Heero’s hand, but he didn’t seem to notice; the answer to his question seemed to command far importance to him.

“I....” Duo looked away, his eyes tracking something outside the large window over the sink. Spinning around so his back was pressed against the counter, he hoisted himself up onto it and folded his hands in his lap, fingers twisting incessantly as he nervously swung his legs back and forth. “Remember that dumb thing I said about my friend? The one I used to think was an angel? When I was a kid and living in this church orphanage, I have to admit I always had this fascination with angels. I loved all the statues and windows and all.” Duo said slowly, the sound of his boots banging into the wooden cabinets echoing loudly in his ears. “I guess I still kind of do, huh?” he said with a sheepish smile as he looked up and met Heero’s unsure gaze.

“What do you mean?” Heero asked. He sounded wary and a little on-edge. It was apparent he wasn’t sure where Duo was trying to go with his story or what it had to do with his previous question. He was deathly afraid that this was some kind of buildup for a huge letdown.

Duo sighed in frustration, realizing that he wasn’t communicating well again. Grabbing his bangs, he massaged his forehead and tried to make sense. “It’s so weird to explain. When I talk to you, I feel like I did when I was a brat and I talked to angels,” he said, his hands traveling from his face to the thick chestnut hair swept behind his ears. “What I mean is,” Duo went on, realizing he probably sounded crazy right then, “when I talk to you, it makes me feel like I did then, when I was a kid, back when I felt like I could conquer the world.”

“You think I’m an angel?” Heero asked skeptically, that same tone still riddling his voice.

“Well, not really,” Duo said with an embarrassed smile as he clasped his hands behind his head. “But you make me feel that way, like there’s an angel who actually knows my name, might keep me in God’s good graces. Heaven knows it’s been a long time since I... since I really felt anything about anyone.”

“But you always smile,” Heero pointed out, his uncertainty now confusion.

“But not really smile. I smile best when the pain comes, you know?” Duo countered, his face crestfallen. Looking back at Heero, he dropped his hands back into his lap and said, “You want to know if I love you? Now that you ask me, I think I finally know.” Leaning down to Heero, he put a finger beneath his chin and guided his eyes to meet his once more. “You’re the only person I’ve really smiled for in forever. You don’t get bubbly, fake-cheerful Duo, but real, this-is-who-I-am Duo. If I can trust you enough to show you who I am without question,” he continued, his voice dropping to a low, private whisper, “then I don’t know what it is to be in love.”

Heero was in awe at Duo’s admission. He had never expected Duo to pour so much out for him, especially given their particular history together. “Did you know that you’re the only person I’ve ever trusted?” Heero wondered out loud, finally turning off the faucet and halting the waterfall cascading over his wrist and fingers. He slowly drank from the droplet-covered glass, his eyes watching Duo carefully from behind the translucent rim. “I don’t give it out easily. I’m afraid of getting hurt,” he said as he swallowed. “But somehow, you seemed worth the chance.”

“I understand that. I’m the same way,” Duo nodded sympathetically. His eyes fell downward, examining his hands, which were still frenetic and jittery in his lap. “I wonder if that makes me an angel too,” he wondered out loud, though his voice was muted and almost incoherent. “I mean, if we’re so similar, maybe....”

Duo’s fidgeting hands were stilled by Heero’s, which had found their way into Duo’s lap and had gently taken hold of them. “Of course you are,” he assured Duo, pulling Duo gently off the counter. He let Duo’s hands drop and placed each of his on either side of Duo on the countertop, trapping the taller youth in place. “I think you are, anyway,” he shrugged when he saw Duo’s hesitant expression.

“A black angel, then,” Duo corrected the analogy, his arms slipping around Heero’s waist. This sort of warm gesture was becoming so second nature to Duo, he almost didn’t even think about it anymore. “A black angel who doesn’t deserve the perfect, white one.”

“People don’t deserve a lot of things, but they still take them anyway,” Heero brushed Duo’s statement off as he leaned his head against Duo’s chest, finding comfort in the sound of Duo’s heart beating loudly under his ear. “I deserve nothing,” he finished in a whisper, “but I want you anyway.”

“Why?” Duo asked incredulously, pulling Heero away so he could look at him squarely. There were so many things he could ask, so many things he wanted to ask, but that one word was the only one that he was able to speak.

“Why do you always ask that, Duo? Sometimes there is no ‘why’, there just is.” Placing his hand on Duo’s chest, where his ear had just been, Heero answered the simple question as best he could. “I guess it’s because you are real to me, Duo. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who makes me feel in such a way: there is nothing I have to hide from you, nothing I have to pretend to be around you. I can just be.” Heero looked down at his shoes, for some reason focusing on the contrast his yellow, ratty sneakers made with Duo’s thin, threadbare Chuck Taylors. “Is it selfish to want that?” he asked, still studying their shoes and how terribly worn both pairs were.

“Heero,” Duo said, placing a hand on each of Heero’s shoulders. “It’s not selfish if I want it too. I want to be real too. You make me feel things I never thought I’d ever feel again, or ever feel at all.”

At this, Heero’s face broke with one of those rare, secret smiles he saved only for Duo. “Isn’t it funny that the punk and the jock can do this to each other?” he asked, thinking of the irony of their situation. Once they had been social enemies from completely different universes; now they were practically two halves of the same whole.

“Y’know, Heero? Not so much, really,” Duo shrugged, his own lips cracking with a genuinely happy smile. “Loneliness ain’t so bad when you don’t have to go it alone,” he said, both hands cupping Heero’s face and tilting it upwards to meet his. “Glad you’re there to take the trip with me.”

“Me too,” Heero whispered, his hands rising up to lay atop Duo’s. “Me too....”

(x) X (x)

a/n: Man, people, I am so sorry it took me way longer than usual to post, but, if you hadn’t heard, my computer had been in the shop for a little bit, so it was virtually impossible for me to post. Happily, though, I’ve got it back and with all my stuff still on it, so yay! Sorry to anyone who was beginning to think I’d been hit by a speeding bicycle or something equally obscure. So, uh, here’s a nice-sized chappy full of both plot and smooching to make up for it, hehe.

Ah, and many thanks to danse, as usual, for a wonderful beta-ing job, and also to BiPanda, who was a great help when I was in a jam.

Oh, and the chapter’s title this time is a Nirvana song off their best record, In Utero.

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