Genre: Angst/Drama/Romance

Pairings: 1x2

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' but these words

Warnings: Yaoi, lemon, language, angst, violence, attempted rape (sort of), mentions of NCS, mental instability, suicidal themes, dark. This story doesn't really have a happy ending. You are warned.

A/N: Something I wrote in a particularly black frame of mind. You know the routine. Enjoy!

He didn't know why he did it. Maybe it was because the mask that he tried so hard to project became who he really was. The teasing, the laughing, the flirting, the carefree attitude, they all became trademarks of Duo Maxwell. All he knew was he didn't like the silence, so he did his best to fill it. And fate had cursed him with a perpetually silent partner.

Heero Yuy had two words in his vocabulary: "Hn" and "baka." That was it. He was cold as ice and never responded to any of Duo's flirtations or advances. Duo didn't know why he tried so hard. Sure he thought Heero was attractive. Damn, the Perfect Soldier was perfect in more ways than one. But on an intrinsic level, Heero made him uncomfortable. Unsettled him. He'd made a life of reading people, and he was good at it. Heero was not only a closed book, but a locked and password-protected one. Nothing and no one got in.

Except Duo. One day, all that changed. One day, Heero suddenly snapped. One day the Perfect Soldier suddenly lost his vaunted self-control, and Duo found himself faced with a situation he'd never thought he would ever face: Heero in mission mode with him as the target.

-

"Tak tak tak . . ." Duo grumbled. "Your fingers are glued to that keyboard, and your ass has fused to that chair. Shit, Heero. You're a computer potato. A junky. Put some chips here, some soda here, a pile of shit candy here . . ."

Heero, of course, completely ignored him. He'd only just returned from a mission, not an hour ago. The first thing he did was sit his Perfect Ass down at his damn computer. Duo hated being bored, and he loathed being ignored. He'd spent the last five hours waiting up for Heero, worried because his partner was late. Heero was never late. And he was a little weirded out by the fact that Heero wasn't wearing spandex and his ubiquitous green tank. Rather, he was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved shirt of black.

Duo hadn't even known Heero possessed another set of mission clothes. Except . . . the pants were a little too baggy. The shirt was a little loose. In other words, they weren't Heero's. He'd gotten them from someone else. Why? Who? Why? When? And had he mentioned why? Heero never did anything without a reason.

"Are you hurt?" he asked finally.

That actually got a reaction. A very, very, very faint one. A muscle in Heero's cheek twitched. It was almost unnoticeable. Duo would have missed it had he not been watching so closely. What, exactly, did that mean? It was hardly a tell-tale sign. However, Heero was a master of ice-masks. Something that small for him could very well have been screaming and crying for Duo.

Walking to Heero's side, Duo entered that huge personal bubble and leaned over him, trying to make the Perfect Soldier look at him. "Are you hurt?" he repeated.

One corner of Heero's mouth lifted in a scowl. "No," he said flatly.

"Yes you are," Duo said, feeling impatient. "I can tell. You're acting strange. Let me see, Heero."

"I'm working, baka," Heero growled, grabbing Duo's wrist and pushing him away.

That was even more telling. Heero never let Duo get to him. Just ignored him until Duo went away. Because usually he got tired of trying to get a rise out of marble and stone before too long. Duo hissed out a breath between his teeth.

"Perfect Soldier, what a laugh. You're a Perfect Ass. Why were you so late, huh? Develop a night life when I wasn't looking? Why do you fucking ignore me like I'm air? You're an asshole, Heero Yuy."

"Get out of here, Duo," Heero said in a low voice. A voice seething with darkness and danger.

Duo chose to ignore it. In retrospect, it was one of the dumber things he'd ever done. He leaned back over Heero again. "Come on, tell me. I really wanna know. You seem immune to my passes. What is it that gets your blood pumping? Girls? Someone like that little blonde bitch Relena? Mm, is she the star of your dreams, Hee-ro? Dream about fucking her? Hearing her beg and cry out your name?"

"Shut up, Duo," Heero whispered. It wasn't really a whisper. It was a strained sound like wires right before they snap.

Had Duo been looking at Heero's face he would have seen the dark and terrible anger in his eyes.

"Heeeeeeero," Duo groaned. "Uh . . . harder . . . faster . . . oh, right theeeeeere . . ."

He never saw it coming. One moment he was leaning over Heero, the next he was seeing stars as Heero rose, backhanding him so hard it knocked him to the floor. His lip split, trickling silken blood down his chin. Surprised and dazed he looked up at Heero. He'd never seen the Perfect Soldier stand quite like that. His legs were at slightly odd angles, body bowed ever-so-slightly forward. He was breathing very hard, as if he'd run a forty-mile marathon in fifteen minutes. His eyes were alight with fury that was terrifying to behold. Duo almost swallowed his tongue.

"That is what goes on in my dreams," Heero spat, advancing on the prone boy. "Just one difference."

Duo scrambled to get his feet under him. If he could get a locked door between him and Heero, maybe it would be enough that he could get away. He never made it to the bedroom door. Heero slammed into him, driving him into the wall so hard it forced all the air from his lungs in a pained gasp. Black spots danced in his vision as Heero crushed him between the unyielding wall and his equally hard body.

"Wanna know why I was late?" Heero snarled, grabbing Duo's wrists and jerking them behind his back so hard Duo yelped.

Next thing he knew he was being thrown down onto the bed, held still by Heero sitting on him. He heard a sharp ripping sound--Heero tore a strip off the sheets as easily as if it were paper. In an eyeblink his arms were bound securely behind his back. He wished he wasn't on his stomach, and he tried to squirm onto his back, testing the knots. But Heero had made them, which meant he had no hope of breaking them.

He froze when Heero simply ripped his clothing from his body. The cooler air in the room made him flinch, feeling terribly exposed. Shit, shit, what the fuck is he doing? Heero tied a piece of black cloth around Duo's eyes. Duo's heart leaped into his throat, choking him.

A warm hand grabbed his limp sex, squeezing so hard and unexpected that Duo let out another yelp and tried to arch away. "He-Heero! Wh-what are you—"

"Fuckin' space brat," Heero hissed in his ear. He grabbed Duo's ass and spread him fast and ungently.

It didn't feel very good. "Heero, stop!" he cried. He desperately wished he could see Heero's face, try to find something there he could reason with. What was he doing?

A dry finger shoved up inside him. Shit, that hurt. Duo jerked and cried out, tears beginning to soak the blindfold. "H-Heero . . ." he croaked. "Pl-please . . . stop it, stop, please . . ."

In and out, rough and fast the finger thrust. He couldn't have been prepared for the invasion of a second before it pushed in alongside its partner.

"Yeah, like that, don't ya?" Heero growled in his ear. "Fuckin' little whore."

What's wrong with him? He never swears like that. "Heero . . ." it came out as little more than a whimper. He was sobbing, and he couldn't stop it. If Heero raped him now . . .

Heero abruptly wrenched his fingers free, roughly jerking Duo onto his back. His shoulders cried out in protest of the abuse. A hand gripped his jaw and squeezed hard. Whimpering again, Duo's mouth opened. Heero thrust something cold and hard between his teeth. It tasted like steel and black powder. His gun? Duo's heart did its best to pound out of his chest. The moans and whimpers of terror wouldn't stop.

"Swallow it, bitch," Heero sneered in the most awful, cold, leering tone Duo had ever heard him use. "Swallow it, or I'll pull the trigger."

Duo's throat worked erratically around the cold steel. It scratched his mouth, and he tasted blood. His tears leaked past the saturated cloth, streaking into his hair. What hideous nightmare was this? What twisted version of reality?

"Like that, don't ya?" Heero went on in that freakish voice. "Like having something thick and long and hard in your mouth."

Duo heard the spin of the chamber. The unmistakable sound of the hammer being cocked. Every muscle in his body snapped taut, his heart stopping. Heero pulled the trigger. Duo couldn't stop the cry, even before he heard the hollow click that told the gun wasn't loaded. Suddenly it was gone and Heero ripped the blindfold away. He was glaring at Duo, but there was something churning in his eyes that Duo didn't recognize. Something more than anger. Something . . .

Heero yanked the shirt off over his head. Even around his pain and fear Duo still gasped. There were livid bruises around Heero's throat, long and thin—if shallow—gashes on his arms telling of some kind of restraint. They spiraled around his chest, too. They disappeared into the jeans around his hips, and Duo suspected they continued down his legs.

"Want to feel my cock up that tight little ass?" Heero said, and Duo watched as that ice cracked.

Hurt. That's what it was. Heero was hurting. Something very akin to horror rested just behind the ice. Duo stared at him, a sick feeling creeping into his gut. What was he talking about? Then the ice shattered, and Heero's cobalt eyes widened as if only just seeing Duo. Widened as if seeing what he'd done for the first time and all at once coming to his senses.

"Only, they used the gun first," Heero said in a terribly empty voice, eyes hollow and unfocused as if he was seeing something . . . utterly horrific. All the color drained from his face and he stared down at his partner. "God, Duo . . . I'm sorry . . ."

Duo started struggling wildly against his bonds. Oh no. He knew that look. He knew what the Perfect Soldier was thinking. Never had he been so clearly able to read Heero's eyes. Raging in the back of his throat, ignoring the scraping burn, Duo wrenched one hand free. His dislocated thumb howled in pain, but he ignored it. Not bothering to get the knots off his other hand, he made a mad dash for his partner.

A single gunshot resounded through the safehouse. Later Duo would glare at the hole that attempted the life of his Perfect Soldier. Now his entire body trembled as he used all his strength to hold Heero's arm still. Blood streaked down Heero's face from the long graze.

"Don't," Heero said, still in that broken whisper.

He jerked backward, but Duo stubbornly clung to his arm. Heero's movements were big and clumsy, he obviously wasn't thinking. Taking the chance that he wasn't able to fight at full capacity, either, Duo viciously twisted the arm in his hold, lashing out with one leg at the back of Heero's knees. The Perfect Soldier, deadly fighter and trained terrorist, didn't even try to evade the blow. The gun clattered from nerveless fingers as Heero went down.

Furiously kicking the gun away and out of reach, Duo went down with him, twisting so Heero wound up falling right into his arms. His partner didn't move, and at first Duo thought he might have passed out. But no, he realized it was something worse. Something even more frightening. Heero was crying. He didn't hear it, but he felt the sudden wetness and heat of tears trickling down his neck and chest.

Duo thought his heart would break in half. The terror and violence from before long forgotten, he clutched Heero to him, stroking his hair, ignoring the drying, sticky blood matting it. "What did they do to you?" he whispered, rocking his partner and best friend against him. "Please, Heero. Talk to me. Let me help."

Heero's arms jerkily went around his waist, squeezing the breath from Duo. He didn't care. "Th-they . . ." he began. "I . . . I was careless. I took out a large patrol of them. I didn't see anymore, so I let my guard down. Enough that one of them . . . he had a tranq gun. When I woke up I was tied down with wires. They kept tightening them."

Duo knew very well that kind of physical torture couldn't come close to breaking Heero. The boy was a frickin' machine.

"He . . . he shoved his gun down my throat," Heero whispered.

"Swallow it, bitch. Swallow it, or I'll pull the trigger."

Duo's throat tightened painfully.

"He strangled me, with his gun down my throat. He . . . he fucking jerked himself off on me while I couldn't breathe."

The wires, Duo knew, had to have been Gundanium alloy. No other material could keep Heero down. Which meant they were counting on his arrival. A trap. One meant especially for Heero.

"Then . . . then he . . ." Heero's voice broke on that word and for a long time he said nothing, just quietly cried onto Duo's shoulder. "When I started bleeding, I was glad," Heero whispered. "It made the gun slide easier. He left just one bullet in the chamber and spun it. When he pulled the trigger, I . . ." And he couldn't go on.

Duo crushed Heero closer. He couldn't have imagined in his wildest, darkest dreams the level of unsettling, near-panic seeing Heero like this brought. It was wrong. So fucking wrong. He suspected he hadn't even gotten the short version. Heero hadn't said much at all.

How long did they sit like that? Duo naked, Heero wearing only his jeans with blood drying on the side of his face? The sound of someone coming finally roused Duo. He didn't want to relinquish his hold on Heero, but he made his partner stand and pushed him toward the bathroom.

"Shower," he ordered, not waiting to see whether Heero obeyed. He heard the water start as he pulled on a pair of jeans and a red tee. Then he bolted down the stairs.

"Duo!" Trowa called just as he hit the landing. "Oh. Is Heero here?"

"Yes," Duo said, wincing as his split lip made itself known.

"Thank Allah," Quatre said, appearing around Trowa. "They laid a trap for him. Not for any Gundam pilot, him. We weren't sure we would get there in time."

"He's in the shower," Duo said, wondering if they were the reason Heero had gotten out alive. That thought made his heart jump. Would Heero try to—? "He was hurt. You guys okay? I'm going to go check on him."

Quatre nodded. "Superficial hurts. I'll tend to us. Go."

Duo didn't need a second bidding. He tried not to attack the stairs like a desperate fool; let Heero tell them what had happened if he ever felt it necessary. Duo would rather die than betray Heero's confidence now.

But Heero's gun was lying on the floor exactly where it had fallen. Duo picked it up and opened the chamber. There were no more bullets. His mind briefly took him back to just . . . an hour?—ago when Heero had played his dangerous game with Duo. He could have killed me. He almost killed himself. Shit. What the fuck am I going to do? Did they manage to rape him?

Duo had never felt such a debilitating anger in all his young life. Heero was more than his comrade in arms. Heero was his best friend. Knocking on the bathroom door, he listened to the water. "Heero? Do you need anything?"

"No," came the somewhat muffled reply.

Heero emerged only five or six minutes later. He was fully dressed again, and all evidence of his grief and pain were gone from his face. Except his eyes. Those incredible eyes of his were still haunted and empty. In that moment, Duo knew he could murder those men, whoever they were, in cold blood if they stood before him now.

The Perfect Soldier went straight for his laptop. "I have to finish my mission report," he said, voice devoid of pitch or inflection.

Duo let him without comment. "Are you going to tell J?" he asked.

He watched Heero's fingers freeze for a split second. "No," came the unexpected response. "I completed the mission."

A rush of emotion welled up inside Duo's throat. Swallowing compulsively, he came up behind Heero, making sure to make noise and give him warning. Wrapping his arms around Heero's shoulders, he rested his cheek against Heero's still-damp hair.

"Thank you for trusting me," he whispered.

Either Heero was a good actor, or Duo really was the only one who could read him because Trowa and Quatre accepted it when Heero told them his injuries were superficial and mild. Duo wanted to hold him and never let go.

Using the excuse that Heero had just returned from a stressful mission, Duo led him back upstairs. Heero shut the door and leaned his head against it, eyes closing.

"I'm tired, Duo," he mumbled.

"Then let's get you to bed," Duo murmured gently, gripping Heero's arms and steering him toward the indicated surface.

When Heero collapsed down onto the mattress, Duo lay down beside him, tucking Heero's head under his chin. "Go to sleep," he whispered. "I'll be right here."

Heero didn't so much as offer a token protest.

-

"Hmm, you're a pretty bitch, ain't ya? Oh, don't like being called a bitch?"

Wires tighten into his skin, and he can feel blood beading around the sharp lines. It hurts, but it is bearable. He has suffered much, much worse.

A hand grabs his jaw and squeezes. "Don't look so superior, fuckin' space brat. Maybe ya need to be taken down a peg or two?"

The cold steel shoved down his throat scratches and tears the fragile column. He gags, trying to cough, trying to shove the object out of his mouth.

"Swallow it, bitch. Swallow it, or I'll pull the trigger."

His vision tints red as his throat tries to work around the invader. It's too wide, too thick. He knows he will choke if he tries to swallow.

A hand closes around his throat, squeezing with almost enough pressure to crush his windpipe. Now the red is overcast by gray, making him thrash feebly. If he can't breathe soon, he will pass out. What will happen then? He doesn't want to die. Not like this. Not before . . .

He can hear their laughter. They thrust the gun down his throat, tearing until he can taste blood. Until he swallows it like water. It chokes him. Finally they pull it free, and the barrel is glistening red. He sucks in deep lungfuls of air, the gray slowly receding from his sight.

But they are not done. Not by a longshot. They readjust the wires to force his legs wide open, their large hands squeezing and bruising his thighs. The gun trails down his stomach, teasing the limp length between his thighs just briefly before dipping lower still and abruptly shoving up inside him.

His back arches as he cries out in a shock of pain. He can feel muscle tearing, but the flow of blood makes the slide and thrust inside him easier. He writhes, desperate to throw off his tormentors. But wires tighten again, bringing more blood. More pain. They are removing their belts. All four of them. He can see every single one of them are hard.

It makes him sick.

"Want to feel my cock up that tight little ass?"

Heero's own breathless cry rocketed him back into wakefulness. He clawed his way out of the blankets and dreams and found himself once more surrounded by Duo. God damn it, did he ever not deserve this tender compassion. Not after he'd almost done to Duo what they'd done to him. A debilitating terror filled him, warring with an equally deep and hot fury. It made no sense, but he could control neither one.

"Get away from me," he snapped, shoving against Duo's chest.

It was enough to break the younger, smaller boy's hold. "Heero–"

"Shut up!" Heero spat, rounding on him. "What the fuck's your problem? I tried to hurt you. I fucking tied you up and tried to rape you!"

"But you didn't," Duo said softly, capturing Heero's hand in his and bringing it to his cheek. "You didn't, Heero."

Heero felt the whisper of his name on Duo's lips against his fingers. Amazement filled him, almost humbling. Amazement. Followed by a bolt of desire. Followed immediately by repulsion. He was sick. Fucking sick.

"No," Duo said abruptly, voice forceful. "Don't, Heero. I can see what you're thinking. Don't you dare pull away from me. I almost lost you back there. I won't let you hide from me anymore!"

Heero's head whipped around and he growled inarticulately at the other boy. "What's wrong with you? I could have killed you!"

"You're angry with them." Not a question.

"Yes!" Heero snarled. "Yes I'm fucking angry at them and if they were here I'd break their necks with my bare hands and I feel sick and broken and fucking worthless . . ."

Duo kissed him. It was a deep, demanding kiss, his tongue shoving its way past Heero's lips and writhing against his own. The desire won against the other emotions. Then Duo broke away. "Use me," he breathed against Heero's lips. "Take you anger out on me. Don't hurt yourself anymore, Heero. I can take it."

Duo probably had no idea what he was asking. But plain and simple, Heero had no wish to hurt Duo. Never. He pushed him back down onto the bed, bringing their mouths back together. He didn't want to remember. He wanted Duo to help him forget. The only person he wanted touching him, the only person he wanted to touch.

The kiss was slow and deep and tender. A gentle exploration that seemed to surprise Duo. After several moments he broke away, face flushed, panting. "Heero, what . . ."

Pressing kisses to a swanlike neck now, Heero closed his eyes and immersed himself in the taste, feel, and smell of Duo. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered. "Just . . . let me have this. I want . . . I need to forget . . ."

It must have been the right thing to say, because Duo relaxed. "Okay. Take what you need, 'Ro. I don't want to lose you . . ."

"Stay . . ."

"I will . . ."

Heero pressed his body down on top of Duo's, soaking up the heat. His partner smelled like strawberries from his shampoo. His mouth tasted like cinnamon from his toothpaste. His skin was like butter, smooth and creamy.

Breathing deeply, Heero removed his tee shirt and dropped wandering kisses down Duo's neck and bare torso. The warmth seeped into his mouth, gloriously real. He felt slim hands grip his shoulders, not really directing him as they squeezed compulsively. Heero gently nibbled at one dusky nipple, rewarded when it hardened beneath his tongue. His fingers gave the other similar attention.

Duo let out one soft, breathy sound lost between a moan and a gasp. Heero lifted his head to watch Duo's face as he pressed a knee between Duo's thighs. Eyelids fluttered down over indigo pools, and Duo made that sound again. Soft, sweet, utterly addicting.

In moments they were both naked, skin-to-skin. Duo immediately wrapped his arms around Heero's shoulders, pulling him close and kissing his neck and throat. They were short and erratic, and Heero could feel his partner's heart pounding. The movements of Duo's hips against his were jerky, almost frantic. It still felt amazing, his hot hardness grinding against Heero's own. But he wanted more. He wanted to watch Duo, those images to chase away the nightmare still burned behind his eyelids.

So he forced Duo to still, one hand gliding down his naked back, reveling in the smoothness of his skin. Duo made a funny sound when Heero's fingers slid into his cleft, barely brushing over his hidden entrance before the pilot of Deathscythe twitched and pulled back. His eyes were a little too wide, his breathing choppy.

"Can't . . . can't we just . . ."

Heero nuzzled his ear, not forging ahead by sheer force of will. "I won't hurt you," he breathed. "Just . . . please, Duo. Let me . . ."

Judging by the tension in his thin shoulders, Duo had his doubts. But when he met Heero's eyes his gaze didn't falter when he nodded. "O-okay. Just . . . go slow."

The hesitancy of one who had never done this before. It was enough to give Heero pause--very, very briefly. He would not hurt Duo, if it killed him. And he wanted the most intense physical encounter of his life to be with one he cared about.

One he loved.

"I will," he whispered, and his fingers began their quest anew.

At first, all he did was stroke and tease, getting Duo used to the idea of being touched there while he continued to pleasure him. It took a little time, but soon Duo seemed torn between the dual sensations, eyes closed in bliss. He was beautiful, the darkness and silver light from the moon giving him an ethereal look.

I want to hold you forever.

He had always intended for his first experience with sex to be with Duo. He'd been researching and reading, familiarizing himself with love and intimacy before approaching the boy who fascinated and drew him like a moth to the flame. Duo was everything he was not--loud, bright, cheerful, inquisitive, intuitive, obnoxious, and flashy. And the more Duo tried to get under his skin, the deeper Heero fell for him until he was well and truly lost. He loved Duo, and he only knew that thanks to Duo's romanticizing everything.

There was lotion on the bedside table, and Heero decided that would be a good enough lube. He smeared a dollop on his fingers and the next touch added pressure until his finger breached the tight resistance and slid inside Duo's body.

It was hot. Burning hot. The opening swallowed Heero's finger as if it never intended to let go. Duo went rigid in surprise, eyes widening at the sensation. Heero gave him time to acclimate before trying a little movement. A slow, gentle in-and-out. He kept it up until the spasming muscles released their death grip and relaxed a little. Only then did he introduce a second. He tried a slow scissoring motion and slid in a third.

Duo's back arched a little, eyes squeezing shut. "S-stop," he gasped. "Ahh--just . . . slow down . . . a little, kay, 'Ro? Ungh . . ."

Heero obeyed, watching pain play over Duo's gamine face. Trying to recapture the pleasure, he stroked Duo's wilting erection firmly, thumb teasing the tip. That worked like a charm, and in moments Duo was panting. Confidence restored, Heero gently twisted his wrist as he pushed a little deeper, searching for the bundle of nerves that would double Duo's pleasure.

He found it with relative ease, and the shudder that abruptly wracked Duo's frame told him his best friend approved. Duo's thighs fell open, lips parting with a soft cry as he rocked himself down hard on Heero's fingers. Unable to tear his eyes away, Heero moved his hand with Duo's rhythm, mesmerized.

"Uhh . . . shit, 'Ro . . . I had . . . no idea it--ah! would . . . feel so good . . ."

"God you're beautiful, Duo . . ."

Duo mewled and writhed on Heero's hand, muscles beginning to quiver. Taking it as a cue to go on, Heero slipped his fingers free. Duo looked dazed, eyes glossy and bright as he watched Heero lather some lotion on himself and position at his entrance.

Once more, Duo tensed. The doubt returned to his eyes, but his mouth set in a grim line. Resolute and determined. It made Heero love him even more that he was willing to do this for him. As slowly as he possibly could he pushed his aching arousal into Duo's body.

God, god it was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. Tight, hot, velvety soft. It took every ounce of control he possessed not to abandon himself and plunge in without thought. Duo's face immediately contorted into an expression of pain, but he bit his lip and didn't make a sound.

"Duo . . . Duo . . . please, look at me," Heero begged. The thought of doing to Duo what had been done to him was a sharp, physical pain in his chest. He had to know his partner--lover--wanted this, too.

Indigo-violet eyes opened. They were shiny with unshed tears, but there wasn't any hatred of fear. Finally Heero was seated to the hilt, and he stopped moving. Duo took long, deep breaths, chest heaving. He could still feel the younger boy's heart pounding, but eventually both began to slow and regulate. After what must have been hours but could only have been minutes, Duo gave a short nod.

Heero carefully withdrew and gently pushed back in. The sensation was incredible, but Duo winced. Heero glanced down their bodies long enough to verify there was no blood, and he breathed a little easier. He angled his next inward pulse toward Duo's prostate, and the soft gasp told him he'd found it. His next thrust was a little harder, providing a little more direct stimulation.

In a few seconds Duo was fully aroused again, eyes sliding shut as he moaned in pleasure. Heero grabbed both Duo's hands, tangling their fingers together alongside Duo's head.

"Look at me," he said again--still too pleading to be a demand. "Stay with me, Duo. Don't shut me out . . ."

Duo's eyelids fluttered as he tried to obey the request. His hips rose up to meet each thrust, and the rhythm picked up in pace. Soon it was wild and frantic, driven purely by physical lust. Heero remained in constant control, watching his lover closely for cues he was being too rough. But Duo seemed absolutely lost in his pleasure, eyes squeezing shut before they flew open to stay locked with Heero's. They drove toward the peak together, rhythm beginning to falter as muscles began to tense. Duo reached it first, and the way his internal muscles clamped down on Heero dragged him along a split second later.

It was incredible. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over Heero, catching him off-guard and momentarily blinding him. His head bowed against it, coming to rest in the juncture of Duo's neck and shoulder. His heart pounded in his chest, panting to catch his breath. He felt Duo's hands squeeze his shoulders at random intervals, breathing just as hard.

Eventually Duo squirmed. It made Heero realize he'd collapsed on his friend, supporting almost none of his weight. Getting to his knees, he gingerly withdrew from Duo's body, causing the boy beneath him to shiver. He peered into Duo's eyes, trying to read the emotions he found there. They numbered many, too tangled up to be deciphered.

But still so, so beautiful. He stroked Duo's face lightly before rising and going to the bathroom. He grabbed a washcloth and dampened it. When he returned it used it to clean the proof of their passion away, and he made sure he hadn't torn Duo. Then he laid down on the bed and pulled Duo against him, head tucked beneath his chin, a reversal of their previous positions. As the golden afterglow yielded to sweet exhaustion, he kissed cinnamon-chestnut hair.

"I love you, Duo . . ."

-

Duo's heart came to a shuddering halt as Heero dropped into sleep. Love? Those words rang in his ears, corralling in his mind until he felt he might go mad. Heero was his best friend. He respected, admired, and cared greatly for him. But love? That was dangerous territory.

Everyone I love dies. I can't love. It was fine if he offered up his virginity to comfort Heero. He would do whatever it took to keep Heero sane and whole. But to have sex because he loved him?

That, he didn't want.

He squeezed his eyes shut, as though trying to shut out unwanted emotion. I'm sorry, Heero. I can't let you love me. I don't want you to love me. I think you'll be okay because you always are. You're strong and amazing, so much stronger than me. But I can't love you.

It was proof of Heero's complete exhaustion that he didn't wake when Duo slid from his grasp. Like a shadow of a ghost he dressed and left the safehouse. A strange sense of regret settled inside him, but perhaps that was to be expected. Time away would show Heero that loving Duo was a mistake.

Only then could he be with him.

-

I don't know what I hoped for. These are hardly normal circumstances, and we're hardly normal people. We're soldiers. But there was a time when Heero would never have believed he would be the one left behind while Duo fled an emotional attachment. It was an unsettling juxtaposition, one he didn't care for in the least.

It had been almost two months with almost no contact from Duo. His one-night lover had turned into the shadows he claimed as patron. Closing his eyes against the glare of his laptop screen, Heero pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been right. Making love to Duo had removed most of the nightmare. Who would have thought it was his tenderness and not his violence that drove Duo away.

You're probably scared. I like to think I know you better than anyone. Maybe they would win the war someday. And perhaps at that time he would finally be free to follow his heart. If that time ever came, he would follow it to the ends of the earth until he found Duo.

He only felt calm, peaceful, and at home in his lover's arms.

Owari