Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Overboard ❯ Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Duo climbed slowly out of the pickup, crunching down into the gravel driveway, looking avidly around, and recognising nothing.

Heero lifted the sagging, side gate and pushed it open with a creak of old hinges, stepping through the waist-high, wire-mesh fencing into the large, grassy back yard, but Duo hung back, uncertain. He didn’t recognise anything. Even the smells seemed wrong. That ever-present ocean tang that had followed them home from the hospital, mingled with the pungent, fruity smells of fallen autumn leaves, and the musty dampness of moss and fungi growing under the nearby tank stand, and on the strainer posts. Wood smoke…damp earth… manure? Maybe. But not familiar.

And it was quiet. So quiet that he could hear Heero breathing. The blood pounding in his own ears. And birds…a dog barking in the distance… the underlying roar of what could only be the far-distant sea. Somehow it seemed to Duo that there should be cars, exhaust fumes, hustle and bustle.

Heero was still standing by the gate waiting for him, but Duo couldn’t move, paralysed by strangeness and uncertainty. He looked past Heero towards the house.

A nice house.

A faint smudge of pale smoke drifted from the chimney, source of the smoke smell, and hinting at warmth and comfort within.

From some secret well of knowledge, hidden deep in some dark recess of his brain, he catalogued the house as a large, 1920s weatherboard, Slate Grey, Porters Milk Paint No. 20, with bull-nose verandahs all around, original chimneys, working order, and a Cape Cod extension, with Chinese White double-hung, dormer windows. Tin roof, needed re-roofing, probable cost $21,000.

But nothing in him recognised that nice house.

Duo’s fingers whitened on the gatepost and he drew in a shaky breath.

Another hidden part of him, a different part, the part that rejoiced in the smooth, sculptural arc of tussock grasses splayed against the hard, straight line of silvery fence post, safe from the mower; that part of him delighted in the flame red of the Virginia creeper that shadowed the verandah, blending into the rich old gold of the huge, overhanging oak with the magical charm of a Douanier Rousseau, or a Chagall. Something about the enormous, colourful leaves, boldly outlined in thick, black shadow.

But not familiar.

Confusion and uncertainty roiled in his gut and he took refuge in ready anger. His fist clenched by his side and his shoulders tightened.

“I don’t know where the freaking hell you think you’ve brought me but…”

As if Duo’s voice had broken a spell, hoarse barking shattered the looming silence, and a large golden retriever galloped to meet them. Plump, black-spangled, white hens scattered above the short grass, squawking like vocal Autumn leaves, then wafted down unconcernedly behind the dog, as if at a frequent occurrence.

A dog! He had a dog! A big dog!

The dog he’d always wanted. He knew it with complete certainty.

Maybe this was home after all.

Duo stepped delightedly through the fence to meet the dog, closing the gate firmly behind him.

Rex the Retriever bounced enthusiastically around and around Duo’s legs, to receive Duo’s delighted greeting, and Duo looked at Heero happily “Hey!! He remembers me! Good boy! Good…um…” He looked at Heero enquiringly.

“Rex.”
“…Rex. Good boy Rex!

Heero observed from the sidelines, strangely touched by Duo’s delight in his annoying dog, and secretly thanking his lucky stars that he didn’t have one of those suspicious dogs, like a rottweiler, or a mastiff, or a maltese.



+++



Duo paused in the long hallway, absorbing darkly polished floorboards and pale walls, pictures and photographs glowing along their length like a gallery. He glanced interestedly at the photographs as he followed Heero, his hand buried in Rex’s warm coat like a thick, golden, security blanket.

He didn’t recognise anyone in the photographs. Five small boys of varying ages. Two of them twins by the look of it. A tall blonde man, his arm around a slight, smiling girl with soft, brown hair. A younger Heero, scowling at the camera. A very much younger Heero staring in fascination at a baby in a pram, solemnly offering it a teddy bear. Duo grinned. But no photographs of Duo.

“So.” He followed Heero into the kitchen and surveyed timber cupboards and cork tiles. More pale walls. “This is the kitchen.”

“Mm.”

“So.”
< br> They stared at each other, suddenly uncomfortable, neither quite sure what to do next.

Heero recovered first. Back to the plan. Treat Duo like an honoured guest. Okay. “Um…would you like some tea?”

“Well…actually,” Duo looked sheepishly at Heero, “You weren’t far out with what you told that welfare woman. I am a bit tired.” He stretched and yawned, showing a large expanse of bare stomach in the process. It wasn’t surprising that he was tired. It was less than twenty-four hours since he’d been concussed, hypothermic and almost drowned. “Think I’ll lie down for a bit.” He looked at Heero expectantly. “Uh…this is going to sound dumb but…where’s our room?”

Heero was mesmerised by Duo’s stomach. Smooth and lightly tanned…

“Heero? Our room? Yours and mine?”

Heero stared at him blankly. Our room??? His and …Duo’s…? Oh hell and damnation. He really, really hadn’t thought this through properly. “Uh…”

Oh god…what if Duo slept naked???

“Um…”

Duo was still peering at him enquiringly

Duo in his bed Duo naked in his bed…Duo’s stomach… Duo naked in his bed Duo naked in his bed with…

No! He couldn’t do it. He was only human and he could not sleep in the same bed as Duo for five days and not touch. Even if Duo wore thermal pyjamas, bed socks and a beanie. Even if Duo wore an asbestos suit, face mask and breathing apparatus. If Duo was to be the honoured, respected guest in the mission plan, he would absolutely have to sleep somewhere else, on pain of being dishonoured and disrespected. Heero swiped sweaty palms on his jeans. Uhh…

“The couch.” Heero blurted. “You sleep on the couch.”

“Eh???” Duo’s eyebrows climbed into his hair. “What? I thought that we were like…you know...” He made an expressive hand movement that Trowa would have been proud of.

Heero gulped desperately, trying to ignore the visions conjured up by Duo’s suggestive fingers. “We are. We are! It’s just that…that…” Involuntarily he took a step backwards, and bumped into a corner of the kitchen table. Ouch. His back

“My back!” He looked at Duo triumphantly and rushed into speech. “I hurt it on a job and it’s worst when I lie down. You’ve been…sleeping…on the couch…because I can’t share the bed with you!!”

“Oh. Okay.”

Heero sagged with relief, then stiffened again as he realised that he’d have to make up the couch to look as if Duo had been sleeping there. Hell and damnation! What else had he forgotten?!! First things first. Get rid of Duo so he could make the bed. He cleared his throat.

“Maybe you should explore a bit first. Wander around. Something might jog your memory.”

“Oh yeah. Right. Good idea.”

Heero listened until he heard Duo wander upstairs, then collapsed against the kitchen counter letting out a gusty sigh that blasted his hair up off his face. Hell! That was a close one! How could he not have thought of sleeping arrangements?! Of course Duo would expect to sleep with him. He was supposed to be his boyfriend wasn’t he?!

He ran a distracted hand through his hair, which felt even messier than usual. This was harder than he’d thought. How the heck was he going to get through the next few days without Duo getting suspicious? There were so many things he hadn’t thought of.

As he feverishly threw sheets at the futon in the living room, he quickly ran through a mental checklist, of all the things that Duo might expect to find.

Toothbrush…okay he was on it…spare one in the bathroom cabinet. Cody had used it to paint with, but he’d washed it out and it should be okay. Bit blue but anyway… Fine.

Shampoo… Okay share his. Fine.

Conditioner. Hell! Conditioner! Gallons of it probably and he never used it himself. Okay okay… Say that they’d just run out. That could work for lots of things actually.

Razor…his again, dammit. Duo had better rinse it out or else. Heck! So much stuff! And that was just the bathroom.

At least he had the clothes angle sorted.

Clothes…

Clothes!

Hell and damnation!!! Duo’s clothes! They were still in the back of the truck! That’d be a dead give away.

He listened carefully for Duo, hearing a bedroom door close, and then bolted outside to the truck for the plastic bag, slinging it through the living room door just in time, and diving back into the kitchen, heart racing, as he heard Duo in the upstairs hall.



+++



Duo looked around the bedroom, taking in warm timber furniture, rich indigo carpet, matching quilt cover, palest apple green walls. Green Chiffon, Dulux colour card 116. Nice. But completely unfamiliar.

He sighed and sat down on the bed looking around in disappointment. Nothing. Nothing rang any bells whatsoever. No photographs of him. No mementos. Nothing.

It was as if he’d never even lived there.



+++



When Duo came downstairs, moments later, Heero was calmly pouring water on tea leaves; a fragile calm, which lasted roughly 30 seconds until he pulled two mugs from the cupboard and realised that he didn’t know how Duo had his tea. Hell! Did Duo even drink tea?

He dithered for a moment, then took cups, tea, milk and sugar to the table, pushing a filled cup towards Duo and watching surreptitiously, while blowing on his own, weak, black tea. Thankfully, Duo took both milk and sugar, otherwise Heero would have been forced to use them himself, just to explain their presence. Well that was a relief. At least he wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the week drinking sweet, milky tea.

Duo sipped his tea, gazing around the unfamiliar kitchen, and shivered slightly. Then shivered again, harder. He crossed his arms across his chest, rubbing his biceps.

“Man. It’s chilly all of a sudden. I need a jacket.” He looked hopefully at Heero. “Umm…Heero? It seems like I’m constantly asking you stuff and I’m sorry to be a nuisance… but… where are my clothes?”

Silently, Heero stood, and pointed through the doorway. Together, they stared at a bulging, black plastic, garbage bag in the middle of the living room, slung carelessly on the patterned, crimson carpet. A mismatched assortment of fabric spilled onto the floor. Heero caught sight of purple and orange flowers and cringed. What the hell had he been thinking?

He gritted his teeth with resignation, the muscles of his jaw aching with the strain, waiting for the blow to fall. This was it. The jig was up. Inwardly he cringed, expecting Duo to put 2 and 43 pieces of clothing together and make 4, then to turn, point, rant a bit, denounce him as a perverted peeping tom, who moonlighted as an abductor, and then, probably, punch him

To his enormous surprise, Duo did none of those things. He looked embarrassed.

“Heck! Sorry man. I’m such a slob. Can’t even put my own clothes away. I don’t know why you put up with me. Just let me grab some sleep first and then I’ll shove ’em away okay?”



+++



While Duo was sleeping, Heero collected the boys from school and hustled them all into a nearby MacDonald’s Restaurant, so that he could fully explain all the subtle nuances of the situation, without Duo overhearing.

Joe ignored the subtle nuances, dropped his third Fillet-o-fish burger as if it was thirty pieces of red-hot silver, and looked at Heero disapprovingly

“Heero! That’s lying!”

Heero fixed him with a stony stare. It was morally acceptable to lie to people who drowned your toolbox. And this was a crisis.

Besides. Heero was older, which made him the boss.

“Technically…yes…”

“N ot technically. It just is!” Joe glared, Heero-ically, into his fishburger.

Silas and Zac decided to help, in between mouthfuls of McFeast with the pickles taken out. It might be a fishing community, and they might spend half their lives hanging off the pier catching flathead and whiting and toadies, but they wouldn’t eat fish for a bet.

“Hey! Chill…”

“…out Joe and…”

“….leave Heero alone…”

“…this Duo character sounds…”

“…like a real loser!…”

“…It’s all his…”

“…fault anyway. He never…

“…should have punched…”

“…Heero and thrown his…”

“…tools in the water!!!!!”

They both shoved handfuls of fries into their mouths, and chewed emphatically, glaring at Joe.

Heero winced, licking pickle-coated fingers. He might have exaggerated slightly.
Joe glared back. “It’s still lying!”

“It was Duo’s fault!”

“You freaking losers don’t know jack shit! Stop the hell picking on Joe!” That was Cody, who’d obviously been spending way too much time on the boat with Trowa’s shipmates.

“ENOUGH!”

Silence fell. When Heero used that tone of voice it meant business. He’d start speaking ice-laden Japanese in a minute and people would stare. He gathered their eyes with a serious, blue gaze. “Let’s start again!” He ticked off points with a fry.

“One…” He glared at the twins. “It was not Duo’s fault.” Much.

“Two…” He glared at Cody. “No swearing or you’re never going on that boat again!!! Three…”

Three. The big one. He glared at Joe, and then at all of them, just to be safe.

“Three…this is important. Or I wouldn’t ask you to lie. Lying is wrong. You know that and I know that. But if we don’t lie we’re in big trouble. Agreed? Agreed??”

Suddenly everyone was concentrating hard on their burgers, looking at the table and sitting up nice and straight.

Tyler took advantage of the sudden, unnatural silence. “Can I have Zac’s Coke?”

“No!!!”

“Bug off!!!”

Heero sighed. “It’s only for a little while. But we all need to pretend that Duo lives with us. Duo must…not…find…out. You can do that can’t you? Pretend?” He looked hopefully at Tyler and Cody, ignoring the twins. They could dissemble till their ears bled. Or everyone else’s.

Tyler and Cody nodded owlishly, while Joe glared sullenly at the table.

The twins looked at each other meaningfully behind Joe’s back. Heero was way too soft sometimes. You just had to check out the way that he let Missus Peacecraft-Dorklian trample all over him. Well. Duo needed paying back and they were just the twins to do it. They bumped clenched knuckles together in their secret code, while Heero eyed them with misgiving, absently eating the fry. Faith! Frootloops!



+++



When they got home, Duo was still asleep on the futon, snoring gently, his braid pooled on the floor, earning an evil twin-glare, but Heero ushered them quickly past the open, living room door to the stairs, and into an early bed, despite whinges that it was Friday night and no school tomorrow. He was worn out from the strain of dealing with the Duo issue, the clothes issue, the bed issue, and the Child Welfare issue, and in absolutely no hurry to introduce the twins issue into the mix. As soon as lights were out, he ushered himself into an early bed as well, and collapsed into sleep, dead to the world, and to any small rustlings, or whisperings, that might take place in an old house, late at night.

The next morning, the peace was disturbed by a bellow of pain, followed by a loud thump.

“HOLY FREAKING SHIT!”

They all ran downstairs to see, the twins lagging behind slightly.

Heero was appalled, but not entirely surprised, to see that someone, probably two someones, had knotted Duo’s rope of hair to the wooden arm of the futon. Duo was sprawled, half on the futon and half off, his head leashed uncomfortably to the couch.

“Hang on! I’ll help. Stop wriggling!!!” Heero knelt down on the floor besides the enraged Duo and struggled to undo a lobster buoy hitch. “Try and take some of the strain off. Don’t WRIGGLE!!”

He winced sympathetically. Close proximity to Trowa had meant that the boys were expert at knots, as well as lanyards, splices and Flemish flakes, which was often a good thing, but two simple half hitches would have been a heck of a lot easier to undo.

Duo was rubbing the back of his head, and glaring at the room in general from his seat on the floor.

“Who the bloody hell…”

He snatched his braid from Heero’s hands, the moment it was freed, and stroked the end protectively.

The twins were hovering in the doorway, unsure whether to crow with glee or run. They rushed into speech, where angels feared to tread

“Well…why do you…” Duo was still petting his abused braid and wasn’t chasing them yet.

“…have such long…” They edged a little closer.

“…hair anyway! You look…” Closer still.

“…just like a girl!!” They stared at him pugnaciously from a carefully-considered, arm’s length away, red hair aggressively spiked from sleep.

Duo blinked at them. Stereo twins at seven o’clock in the morning were a bit hard to handle.

“And you guys are…?”

“He’s Silas!”

“He’s Zac!”

“No he’s not.” Joe stared disapprovingly from the doorway. “He’s Zac.” He pointed. “And the one with the freckles is Silas.”

The twins glared at Joe in twinly unison. Joe was a dirty, rotten spoilsport. It normally took people at least a week to sort them out. Some, like Missus Peaslien-dillcraft, never did.

“And you are…?” Duo looked at him enquiringly.

“Joe.”

“Another Heero-nephew huh.” Duo’s voice was soft as he inspected Joe. Joe, the image of Heero, down to the long, silky, brown tendrils of hair hiding his piercingly blue eyes, and the Heero-esque glare that was currently annihilating the twins.

“So.” Duo turned back to the grumbling twins. “ Zac and Silas hmm?” His anger had vanished like sea-mist in sun, replaced by a slightly evil grin, which on Zac and Silas would have meant trouble, but which on Duo was still an unknown quantity. Heero wondered how many years it would take, to get used to Duo’s quicksilver changes of mood. Then he reminded himself sternly that he didn’t have years. He had a few days, maybe a week, tops.

“Uhh…I have long hair because… I… umm…because…” Duo shrugged. He didn’t remember. “Because I do that’s why! So butt out! Although…” He held the tail of his plait in front of his face and peered at it, eyes crossing slightly as he waggled it to and fro thoughtfully. “S’pose there’s no reason why I shouldn’t cut it off really. Might be safer.” He eyed the twins significantly.

“No!! Don’t cut your hair.”

Everybody jumped, Heero included. He’d even startled himself. But some part of him recoiled at the thought of Duo cutting his hair.

“On the other hand…” Duo changed his grip on his braid. “…it makes a good weapon!!”

He leapt from the couch and whipped the twins around the room with the rope of hair, eventually cornering them with the other boys’ help, and tumbling them, shrieking with laughter, onto the couch, bundling them up in the blankets, where Cody sat triumphantly atop them, in his roller blades. Heero wondered sourly if he’d slept in them.

Tyler bounced onto the futon, on top of the squirming twins, bringing him up to Duo’s eye level. “I want whip hair too!! Can I grow mine? Can I Duo? Can I?!” He peered at Duo from very close range, scraping his blonde curls into a very short ponytail and holding them with a chubby hand. “Look!”

“Hmm.” Duo inspected it solemnly, head on one side. “Think you’ll have to stick to nunchukkas for a while little buddy…”

“Tyler.”

“Tyler hey? Well it’s a good start anyway. Just needs a band…”

Silently, Heero unwound a rubber band from a bundle of pencils in a drawer and tossed it to him. He watched imperturbably from the dresser as Duo twisted Tyler’s curls into a spiky topknot, inwardly marvelling at the fact that Dup had known the boys for half an hour and already they were piled all over him like puppies. Even that blasted ferret; which had its hind legs somewhere inside Tyler’s pyjama jacket, and its front paws on Duo’s thigh, and was staring at his twitching braid with an acquisitive gleam in its beady, little eyes.

Heero gave the braid only a cursory glance before looking back to the tempting thigh under those sharp, black claws. It was smooth and lightly tanned and disappeared into black boxers with little red devils on them. Another strip of smooth, tanned skin was visible between Duo’s T-shirt and boxers as he reached up for Tyler’s hair. Abruptly Heero realised that he was staring and glanced away, flushing, his heart suddenly beating faster.

“Hey Heero…” Duo stood up abruptly and went to lean against the dresser, flinging his arm companionably over Heero’s shoulder, making Heero stiffen with guilty shock. Duo winked at him sidelong and jerked his chin at the incarcerated twins. “What do you reckon…time to put the garbage out??!”

Dragging Heero with him to the futon, he grabbed one end of a wriggling bundle of twin and grinned at Heero, who, after a moments blinking surprise, grabbed the feet end, and crab-walked with him outside to dump them onto the lawn, dazedly allowing himself to be swept up into the captivating whirlwind that was Duo Maxwell. And soccer on the lawn, breakfast, roller-blading in the hallway, tree-climbing, band practice, a bike ride to the beach for fish and chips, Tae Kwon Do, aborted handsprings off the verandah rail, and, eventually, dinner and bed.

And to Heero’s mingled delight and dismay, Duo’s companionable hands continually drifted back to him, patting, pushing, dragging, or draping themselves around him, making him quiver and recoil by turns.



+++



The next morning, the twins woke with their pyjama trouser bottoms at half-mast and the legs tied together, so that when they rolled out of bed they hit the deck with two loud thumps.

The resulting ruckus woke the entire house, except for Duo, who slept the sleep of the righteously exhausted, his braid carefully tucked beneath him, Fez curled up against his belly and a beatific smile on his face.



+++



Sunday night found them tired out and all tumbled together in the living room, watching Jackie Chan in Rush Hour, with the lights turned down. It was very crowded on the futon, so Duo plonked himself sideways onto his boyfriend’s lap, wrapping an arm cosily around his neck and turning his head to see the screen.

Heero stiffened with irritation at the Duo-invasion. Tensed, to heave him onto the floor, but then realised that flattening his supposed-boyfriend would look highly suspicious, and forced himself to relax. Took a deep, slow breath then another. Uncurled his fists. Calm.

Having Duo in his lap should have been uncomfortable, given that they were roughly the same size. Instead, it felt unnervingly good.

Duo wriggled into Heero’s lap to get comfortable and Heeroabruptly forgot that he didn’t want him there. He wanted him right there.

His entire body stood to attention and he felt sudden, overwhelming lust, followed, almost instantaneously, by overwhelming panic. He’d promised that he wasn’t going to touch Duo, and this was touching of the worst possible kind, even if there weren’t any hands involved. He decided to sit it out for a few minutes, then to get up and do…something. Anything. And not come back. That was all very well but he didn’t know what to do with his hands. They hovered impotently in the air, carefully not touching, then to be on the safe side he jammed them down beside the couch cushions. Duo wriggled around a bit more, making contented, little, murmuring noises as he settled himself, and Heero groaned silently.

“Ooh here’s a good bit. Where’s the remote?” Duo squirmed from side to side, peering for it in the darkness, then finally spotted it on the far end of the couch behind Joe’s head, where Joe had thumped it out of reach, after Silas and Cody started fighting over sub-titles, to have, or not to have. Silas liked to see splat and bodily functions written on the screen. Cody, who didn’t read very fast, thought that it got in the way of the action. Duo turned on Heero’s knee and stretched for the control, which brought him chest-to-chest with Heero. He pressed up against Heero, holding onto the back of the couch with one hand, and strained across to reach the remote with the other.

Heero’s face was momentarily jammed into the warmth of Duo’s armpit. That was Duo’s nipple against his ear. Oh god. All he could see was Duo. All he could smell was Duo. All he could feel was Duo’s firm rear end, grinding against him through two, completely inadequate, layers of jeans and boxers. Ohhh. Mmm... ohhh… Oh. Oh hell. He had to leave. Now. Straight away. He had to stand up and…

“Got it!” Duo turned back around and pointed it at the television, settling down comfortably into Heero’s traumatised lap again. Then squirmed around for the popcorn, which was next to Zac, who was sitting on the floor.

Heero squirmed back, just a little bit, completely unable to help himself. It felt so nice. Oh hell. Duo leaned comfortably back against him, face turned to the television. Jackie was arguing with that black cop and Duo shook with laughter, the vibrations travelling straight to Heero’s lap. Oh… oh damn… ohhh… Squirm.

It was suddenly way too hot and Heero buried his flushed face in Duo’s neck. His hands inched their way out of the couch cushions and rested tentatively on Duo’s leg and Duo’s firmly-muscled butt. There was a smooth expanse of skin, between Duo’s shirt and his jeans and, completely of its own accord, his thumb slid up to stroke that bare skin. Bad thumb. Slowly. Rhythmically. Squirm.

Things were heating up. The twins were bouncing excitedly up and down. Jackie was in the Chinese restaurant about to kick some serious butt.

Duo reached down for the popcorn again, his shirt riding up, so that when he leaned back again, Heero’s entire hand was somehow inside his shirt, tracing the bony knobs of his spine. Duo’s back was so warm and he smelled… mmm… Heero nuzzled mindlessly into the moist, warm skin of Duo’s neck. Duo wriggled back down into his lap, getting comfortable again. Ohh. Oh hell.. Heero had to get up. He couldn’t get up. He just… Squirm squirm. Ohh… gahhh… ohhh… oh god oh god…

The delicious blanket of fragrant warmth against his face abruptly vanished, leaving Heero suddenly naked and exposed. He blinked owlishly in shock. Duo was waving a bowl at him. What??

“Popcorn babe?”

Popcorn? Babe? Who? What? Heero gritted his teeth trying to focus. Hell and damnation. Did he just lick Duo? Oh god please no… “No...”

Duo peered at him with concern. “You okay Heero? You’re wriggling. Am I too heavy?” He scrunched down a little, so he could see up into Heero’s face, past his tumbled, dark hair. “You’re a bit flushed. Are you getting sick?” Heero glared at him, which he ignored, feeling Heero’s forehead. “Are you sure? You’re a bit hot.”

Heero was extremely hot. And breathless. Don’t move don’t move oh god don’t…

“Well you sound like you’re in some kind of pain there. Oh no! Your back! Oops sorry! I totally forgot!” He leapt from Heero’s knee, scattering popcorn everywhere on the way.

“Idiot!” Heero dived for the bowl and held it strategically in front of his lap. Fled, stiff-legged, into the kitchen and surreptitiously closed the door.

“Heero has a bad back?” Trowa, who had arrived to advise on handsprings, and had stayed to watch the movie with them, but had seen it many times before, had been observing Heero with fascination out of the corner of his eye. He stared after Heero curiously. He didn’t hear any popcorn popping in there.

“Yeah. He has.”

“No he hasn’t!”

“Since when?” It was the first Trowa had heard of it.

“Yes he has!” Duo frowned at Joe, who subsided muttering into the couch. Damn Uncle Heero for making him lie anyway. “Didn’t you see the way he was moving just now? He could hardly walk. And he was wriggling so much I should have realised he was in pain. Poor Heero.”

Pain. Hmm. Trowa grinned invisibly in the dim light. Yeah. Heero was definitely in pain. Poor Heero. He salvaged a big handful of popcorn off the couch cushions, ate a mouthful, and then held his hand out. “Popcorn anyone?”


+++



After The Popcorn Incident, Heero was careful to let Duo sit down on the couch first, then sit somewhere on the other side of the room. However that didn’t seem to help much, as Duo had a habit of finding him and draping himself over Heero, wherever he was, to Heero’s mingled annoyance and enchantment.

Duo draped himself over Heero’s shoulder now, where he was sitting at the laptop and his braid thumped into Heero’s lap, unnoticed by Duo, who’s braid was always flopping around everywhere, but not by Heero, who’s lap instantly sat up and took a lot of notice.

“What’s up?”
If you only knew, thought Heero. “Client database,” said Heero. Reluctantly, through gritted teeth.

“Cool.” Duo leaned forward to examine something on the screen, his cheek nuzzling warmly against Heero’s and his braid slithering around affectionately in Heero’s lap. “Is that Trowa’s boat?”

His client database was sacrosanct. Which, in layman’s terms meant no Tyler, no Cody, no twins and now, no Duo, braid or no braid. Heero abruptly snapped down the lid of the laptop with a click of finality, and quickly shuffled a bunch of receipts strategically onto his knee.

“Oh. You finished?” Duo levered himself off Heero. “Because if you are I thought we could go shopping. And I was just wondering…”

Duo, who always knew a lot about everybody, because he talked to them, unlike Heero, who didn’t, because he didn’t, knew that Trowa had a boyfriend, who was away for quite a few weeks and who Trowa was missing rather a lot. And Duo had noticed a marked difference between Trowa’s bathroom cabinet and theirs.

“…I was wondering… umm…Heero...” He blushed delicately. “Uhh…we don’t have any stuff. In the bathroom. Or the bedroom, that I noticed. We must’ve run out.”

Heero stared up at him, frowning.

“Stuff? What stuff? Conditioner? Have you run out again?? There’s more under the sink.”

“No-o-o. You know…” Duo cleared his throat. “Stuff.”

Heero didn’t know. “What?”
“You know. Stuff!” He rolled his eyes comically, lowering his voice to a hiss, and jerking his head at Cody and Tyler, who were watching Simpsons from the futon.

“Gay stuff.”

Gay stuff.

Oh!!! Heero blushed furiously and re-shuffled his receipts.

“Should I put it on the shopping list?” Duo picked up a pen and pulled a torn envelope out if his pocket, glanced at Cody and Tyler, then wrote BATHROOM STUFF in red capitals under ‘popcorn’, ‘shampoo’ and ‘Cody basketball 6:30’. He scrutinised it for a moment then changed it to OTHER BATHROOM STUFF.

“No!” What if Iria at the pharmacists noticed? What if the twins discovered it? Somehow. Some mysterious twin how. What if Trowa found out?

Duo put the pen down, looking worried.

“But don’t we need…something?”

“No!” What if…

“Oh.” Duo looked disappointed. “Okay. But…um…isn’t that gonna be kind of uncomf…”

…what if Duo wanted to use it?

“No!” Oh god. “Excuse me. I have to go. Out.” Heero leapt to his feet and went. Quickly, upstairs, and locked the bathroom door. Receipts wafted slowly to the floor.

Oh.

Duo knew that he’d forgotten a lot of things.

He bent down to pick up the receipts.

He couldn’t remember how their coffee maker worked, for example. Maybe he didn’t remember exactly how gay sex worked, although he’d discovered that he was a pretty fair mechanic, and he thought that he could figure it out. He certainly couldn’t remember any of the little, nitty gritty, details of having sex with Heero. Sadly, he couldn’t remember any of the details of having sex with Heero, or even, ever doing it.

He wondered wistfully when he would.



+++



The morning of the seventh day dawned bright and clear, with a milky blue Autumn sky, smudged with pale drifts of pungent wood smoke, the quiet bickering of the hens scratching for bugs in the aromatic leaves under the Virginia creeper and no hint that a letter was about to arrive that would throw the Yuy household, or at least its oldest member, into turmoil yet again.

Heero sat at the kitchen table nursing a mug of steaming green tea. The cork tiles were cold under his bare feet. He should be wearing socks. Soon they’d have to start using the central heating.

The puppy dog mug, Duo’s favourite, was already sugared on the bench, but they had had a very late night, giggling over an old Star Trek re-run, and Heero was still waiting for Duo to wake up before pouring. Bread was in the toaster ready to be pressed down, and water simmered on the stove, awaiting two breakfast eggs.

“Mail Heero!” It was Cody, up early for once. “And I found Duo’s hat. It was on the fence post.”

Cody skated twice around the kitchen table, then rumbled down the hallway, leaving a drift of envelopes, circulars, and a baseball cap in his wake. On top of the pile was an official, white, windowed envelope. From Child Welfare.

Heero stared at it, transfixed. Tea slopped onto the table and he put down his cup. His hands were shaking.

He eyed the envelope through the steam with a strange, shivery feeling in his stomach. Once they received approval from Child Welfare, then they wouldn’t need Duo any more. And he would have to explain to Duo that their life together was a big, fat lie and that Duo belonged upstate somewhere, with that person with blue hair and an attitude to match.

The shivery feeling got worse.

Maybe he was getting sick. He felt as if he was going to throw up. His throat was a bit ticklish. Heero coughed experimentally, still glaring at the letter. Idiotic! He should be pleased. This was it. Mission accomplished.

With a firm hand he unfolded the letter and forced his eye down the straight lines of text, slowly at first, then bolting over whole lines, to arrive with a gasp at the bottom.

“Hell and damnation!”

Three months!!! That bloody woman. He was going to kill her.

Three months. Probation. That interfering woman was going to be pestering them once a week for three months.

And expecting to see Duo.

He was so screwed. Three long, agonising months of having Duo drape himself all over Heero and not being able to touch him back.

He screwed the letter into a ball and hurled it at the bin, where it bounced off and skidded under the table. Heero blinked and glared at the bin. He never missed! Ever since Duo turned up one thing had gone wrong after another.

How was he supposed to keep Duo in the dark for three months? What if Duo remembered that he wasn’t Heero’s boyfriend? What if someone looked for him? What if…

What if Duo found the note and somehow put two and two together? Heero quickly crawled under the table after the note, then set fire to it over the sink.

The problem wasn’t so much deceiving Duo. He could do that. He didn’t want to, but he could, and especially now, since, after his initial confusion, Duo seemed to be perfectly happy. And it seemed that the boys had completely forgotten that Duo wasn’t really Heero’s boyfriend.

Heero groaned softly, staring into the ashes, remembering affectionate touches. Shared laughter. Teasing, violet eyes that held Heero spellbound until he couldn’t move, or think, or breathe.

The problem was…what if Heero forgot that Duo wasn’t really Heero’s boyfriend?



+++



Of course, the real problem was that they both wanted it to be true so very badly.