Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell ❯ Revelations ( Chapter 46 )

The Edulcoration of Duo Maxwell - 46/?

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NOTE: SPECIAL DOUBLE LENGTH CHAPTER!!!

Warnings: AU, yaoi, coarse language, violence, angst, cliffhangers, red herrings, mention of various vices, random bits of useless knowledge, occasionally explicit sex, excessive use of footnotes.

Rating: NC-17

Spoilers: None for GW, and I'm now quite convinced almost nada for Pretty Woman.

Disclaimer: I don't really need to be Captain Obvious here, do I? No ownership, no money being made, yadda yadda. Written for fun, not profit.

Archived at:
http://www.atsui.org
http://www.gundam-wing-diaries.150m.com/gw /Mookie/gwmookie.htm

Edulcorate (verb) - To free from harshness (as of attitude); to soften

~~~~~

Chapter 46 - Revelations

After the jigsaw was completed, Heero grabbed two bottles of water and Duo fetched the ice cream that had somewhere along the line become a milkshake. They headed out to the balcony via a different doorway than the one Heero always used.

Duo took the lid off the ice cream and they passed it back and forth, slurping the melted confection right from the carton.

Duo tried his hardest not to look at Heero's mouth as he licked the ice cream off his lips, and Heero spent just as much energy watching Duo's every move.

Duo made a face and set the carton on the table just inside the suite before joining Heero near the ledge again. He tilted his head back and took several long swallows of water to wash away the sticky sweet taste in his mouth.

He stared out at the cityscape when he was done, leaning the hand with the bottle against the ledge.

So much had happened in the past week. First Hilde had dumped him, then he'd stolen Wufei's car, and then he'd gotten lost on top of everything. He hated being lost. There was just something about not knowing where you were going that seemed to be the worst loss of control available.

Then he'd seen that shadow through the passenger window of the car, and that pale blond hair, and eyes that shone like the moon, reflecting the neon lights of nearby establishments.

He'd wanted the directions, sure, and he could have paid for them then, just gotten the directions. Verbally, without the personal guide service.

But if he'd done that, he'd never have experienced all the things he'd experienced this week. Not all of them were good things, but there were times, like most of today, like the last few nights, when life seemed almost perfect.

Except nothing in life was perfect, and sometimes you had to be careful what you wished for, because the reality was never like the fantasy.

~~~~~

Quatre knew that things were starting to fall apart around him, but as he'd realized when he was in a more sober state of mind, alcohol wasn't just liquid courage, it was liquid lack of good judgement. At the moment, he wasn't too concerned with that. It seemed the jig was up anyway.

So why wasn't Catherine hauling him out of there?

He tried to calm his nerves, and was tempted to sweet talk a drink out of one of the college students he was chatting with, but Trowa's words to him the night before rang in his ears. For some reason it seemed important to heed them.

OK. Calm down, Quatre. It certainly wasn't illegal to be the runaway son of a not-so-local wealthy businessman. It wasn't as if his family name was all that well known, either. They weren't exactly the Trumps nor was his father Bill Gates. He'd only concealed his identity in case anyone was looking for him, and to avoid the remote possibility that someone from back home was in LA and heard his name mentioned. At least if any familiar face showed up at the bar, he had an implicit run of the establishment, and could have easily hidden in the back room if necessary, but he had no control over people talking about him when he wasn't around to run damage control.

Most likely he was being paranoid, but then, Heero didn't even use a last name, so perhaps he wasn't being quite so ridiculous.

Of course, he knew almost nothing about Heero, so the reason for his roommate's desire for anonymity was still a mystery, just as the man himself was.

He refused to look toward the bar at Trowa, who was fast becoming just as much an enigma as Heero. Trowa had been a solid presence in his life since he'd first arrived in Los Angeles. Trowa had allowed him to use the phone, hadn't demanded to see any identification, hadn't asked any questions. Had just been there to listen to him. Had accepted with aplomb his impulsive adoption of Heero. Had displayed, just once in a while, a sarcastic sense of humor that still surprised Quatre, nearly a year later.

He hadn't felt like that around anyone since Iria, and he'd immediately felt like he was coming home, something that persisted whenever he walked through the front door. He had his sense of security, and then he'd found Heero, and thought he'd found love as well. Things couldn't have been more perfect, other than the job he had taken to make ends meet.

He felt a little bit sick to his stomach, and he suspected it was the thought of what he was doing at the moment. There was Trowa's sister, the cop, sitting half a room away, and here he was, trying to get one of the guys to come on to him so he could relieve them of some of their parents' hard earned money.

At present, he was simply laughing and joking with the other young men, acting like he was just another student postponing an inevitable cram session.

Maybe he should have taken Iria's advice and gone to college before taking on the business, but he had been afraid of facing others his age, knowing what he knew about himself. He was aware that many schools had gay organizations, and he'd already developed a knack for picking up on subtle cues in a person's body language. He doubted he'd ever mistakenly think someone was displaying an interest in him in a sexual way, so it wasn't that he feared getting into an awkward social situation with a heterosexual classmate. Perhaps the converse could be true, where he might miss out on an opportunity with someone who was just barely out of the closet, but he wouldn't have been attending college for the sole purpose of meeting someone with whom he could bump uglies.

He winced inwardly at the crude expression, never letting his smile falter. Seemed even his mind tended to run off at the mouth when he was drunk.

No. He wasn't drunk. He was just...less inhibited. It was Trowa who'd insisted he was drunk.

Less inhibited. That was a good thing. He leaned forward slightly as he laughed at one of the anecdotes a rather good-looking young man with short dark hair had regaled them with. With his vision still a bit blurry from the bourbon, he could almost picture Heero sitting there in his place, except that Heero never laughed.

He didn't notice that the other young man he'd thought the same thing about before hearing it with his own ears that morning was currently making a beeline for the table he was entertaining.

~~~~~

"What's that supposed to mean?" Wufei asked.

Meiran shook her head. "For a very smart man, sometimes you're incredibly blind. You and your partner."

"What about Duo?"

She laughed. "Duo is trying very hard to prove something. Actually, I think he's trying to disprove something. You didn't see it at the gallery that night?"

This time Wufei was the one shaking his head.

"Will you stop talking like a fortune cookie and tell me what the hell you know?"

"I don't know a thing," she said. "But some things aren't very hard to figure out, if you open your eyes and look at what's in front of you. You did something earlier today, something you weren't very proud of, but something you believed was the right thing to do.

"I am not pleased with you, but I trust your heart. You threw your die, and it didn't come up with the face you hoped for. Life goes on. Maybe it wasn't your place to know whatever it was you wanted to know. It had to do with Duo, didn't it?"

"How did you know that?"

She laughed again, a deep rich sound. "Wufei, you left here shortly after you and I talked about Duo and Hilde and Heero. It was a simple matter to draw a line from Point A to Point B. Now stop worrying about your business partner and spend some time with your life partner."

"But what about that 'I'll tell you tomorrow' comment?"

She patted him lightly on the cheek. "Let's just say that I see a logical outcome based on events leading up to this point. Now give me your cell phone."

"I can't! I told Duo I'd leave it on. And what if that damned Peacecraft calls?"

She gave him the most lascivious smile he'd ever seen. "So we'll put it on vibrate. Now MOVE, Chang. Something about driving a car that costs more than the budget required to make the Thriller video..." she put a hand to her chest and gave a theatrical moan.

Even references to fading pop stars and his wife's irritating blend of point blank bluntness and vague references couldn't make him refuse such an invitation.

~~~~~

Heero looked at Duo, the sun gleaming off his hair, making it seem like burnt gold, and again the image of a Greek god flitted through his mind.

But which god?

Zeus was too obvious. Although he could see Duo as the ruling monarch of Olympus, he couldn't picture him as being single-minded of purpose when it came to seduction.

Ares? Perhaps, but Heero thought the personality of the god of war was a bit too exaggerated for someone like Duo. He was far more complex than that.

Duo's fiery braid made Heero picture him as Apollo, driving the chariot across the sky every morning. The sun god. Hmm. Closer, but still, not quite close enough.

There were the parts of Duo that weren't so obvious. A little darkness, like Hades. The image of Duo dragging a reluctant Persephone to the underworld just didn't sit right with him, either.

It was his dual nature that made this little mental exercise rather complicated. He was more like the Roman Janus, the god of beginnings and endings. Or perhaps...

"Dionysus."

Duo's reaction was immediate. He'd turned his body half way around toward Heero, and his eyes were blazing.

"How did you know that?"

Heero took half a step back and blinked. "Excuse me?"

"My name. Where did you hear it?"

Heero didn't want to appear stupid, but it took him a moment to process what he'd just been told.

"Your name is Dionysus?"

Duo winced slightly. "I go by Duo, now. Dion sounds...too feminine for my tastes. Can't stop thinking of Ms. Warwick and her psychic friends when I hear it, either." He shook his head. "Seems mom didn't realize she'd picked the wrong name out of the baby book until it was too late. I'm sure she was less than fond of the pagan influence after the drugs wore off. Probably figured that was the first place she'd gone wrong with me." He set down the water bottle on the ground next to him and turned back to the view of the city below.

Dionysus. It was...an incredibly perfect name for him. The god of wine and revelry, one who brought either bliss or wrought destruction.

Joyous and vibrant. Dark and deadly.

Life and death.

Duo.

If Heero were the type to indulge in physical displays of affection, he might have given in to the temptation to hug Duo in that moment, but as Icarus had learned the hard way, giving in to one's urges could sometimes end in disaster.

Duo's rigid posture indicated that Heero had inadvertently hit a nerve.

"No one has called me that in years," Duo said, almost to himself. His arms were crossed in front of him, but his hands weren't stuffed under his armpits. Instead, they were practically gripping his shoulders, making it appear that he was suffering a chill.

Heero felt that they were standing on the edge of a cliff, but he wasn't sure which of them was going to lose his footing first.

The most common piece of advice given, when working at a great height, was 'don't look down.'

The question was, did Heero want to look down, or look up? Or maybe neither, instead, looking ahead? He wondered if he would be more likely to fall, or merely be carried along by the wind, with no control over his direction or destination.

When Duo finally spoke, Heero was surprised at the seeming change in subject.

"Remember that Enzo?" Duo asked. "As if anyone could forget a car like that, eh? I stole it. I know that you know I did. Haven't hotwired anything in a good number of years, but cars really haven't changed that much, no matter how good their security systems are."

His posture relaxed a tiny bit, but his eyes continued to be fixed on some point in the distance. Heero slowly moved toward the ledge until he was standing to Duo's right, but leaving several feet between them. He half sat, half leaned against the ledge. He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the intricate mosaic design on the tiled floor when Duo resumed speaking.

"I hotwired a really nice Mustang once. Figured it belonged to some spoiled rich kid and I had to work fast. Got a little sloppy in my haste, and the owner showed up while I was still wedged between the door and the seat. Hadn't expected to see this older, distinguished looking gentleman standing there with the keys in one hand and a paper sack in the other. He looked as surprised as I felt, but I could see there was a sense of disappointment in his eyes. He dropped the bag, and his hand clamped down on me before I could get away. I was ready to kick him where it counted to get him to let go, and then he asked me one question. 'Why?'"

He glanced at Heero to see if he was still paying attention, and continued.

"To make a long story short, I reminded him of his late grandson. Terrible thing when you outlive your kids, let alone your grandkids. He wanted to make a difference to some poor misguided youth. I wanted to tell him he was a complete sap. Next thing I know, a scholarship was set up for me. Mom got the notification, I was enrolled in a private school, and off I went.

"Was tempted lots of times to go back to the thrill of stealing, but I somehow knew that he'd be let down, somehow, even though I never saw him again."

He looked at Heero, waiting for a reaction.

It wasn't what he expected.

"I see," Heero said, looking over at Duo. "So at what point did your fairy godmother lead you down the yellow brick rose to Narnia, where you defeated the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, single-handedly saving mankind from destruction before returning to Mount Olympus?"

Duo gaped at him for a moment, then started to laugh, a deep down belly laugh.

"My God, Heero, you are priceless, you really are. Laid it on a bit thick, did I?"

"Hmmm."

"I did say you couldn't con a con, didn't I?" Duo laughed again, before a look of seriousness overlaid his mirth. "The truth isn't as glamorous."

Duo seemed to need a change of scenery, and he pushed away from the ledge and turned the corner of the wrap-around balcony so that Wilshire Boulevard was visible below. It was the same section of the balcony that Heero favored. They both resumed their earlier positions, with Duo facing the city and Heero ostensibly studying the floor, although he kept peering at Duo from beneath his bangs.

"That story isn't entirely false," Duo said. "The best lies have a grain of truth in them. Flesh 'em out with a few details, and you have a believable whopper, most of the time. I did get caught, but not quite that way. But first I have to tell you about my mother."

Duo took a deep breath, then continued.

"Typical single mom raising a child in a low-income, mixed race neighborhood. A middle-aged lady on permanent disability lived next door. Of course at the time, she seemed ancient. She went by the name of Betty, although I can't picture a person who looked less like a Betty than she did. Don't know if it was her real name, but she'd always just been Betty to me.

"I can still picture her hair - it was the thickest, darkest hair I'd ever seen, not a trace of gray like my mom's. Once told her that I thought a bird might be living in it. She laughed, and I thought it was the best sound I'd ever heard. She was half Nigerian, half Cherokee or something like that. I know she had told me at one time, because I'd asked. She always had an answer for me, no matter what the question was. I liked that about her.

"She'd check up on me now and then, and sometimes I'd go over there for a snack or something after school, otherwise I was pretty much a latchkey kid from probably Day One. My mom...she was, I think, a God-fearing woman at one time, and she tried to set the best example of good behavior. She loved me. I know she did. But she had to work. Food didn't appear on the table through the work of elves, like that story about the shoemaker. She didn't ask Betty to babysit, really, because she'd have felt obligated to pay her. I think she was relieved to find out I had a keeper of sorts, at least until I got to middle school. Then the apartment we lived in got sold, and we had to move. Another low-income housing development, same school district, at least, but no Betty.

"Mom's commute was quite a bit longer after that, and she was working longer hours, too. Didn't have much of an education herself - I doubt she ever graduated high school. Never knew my dad. Not sure my mom even knew who he was, although I preferred thinking she did, because she didn't seem the type to give it up for someone whose name she didn't even know. I never allowed myself that fantasy that they'd been so in love, she couldn't find anyone else to replace him in her heart. Didn't allow myself to pretend that he'd just gone off to work one day and gotten into a car accident. Just assumed there never was a father involved, except for maybe one night, just enough to make the necessary sperm deposit in the vaginal vault.

"She was always so tired. She'd come in hours after I got home from school. Checked that my homework was done, asked if I'd had supper, then she'd eat her own dinner and go to bed. Repeat the next day. Day in, day out. I had no idea what she even did for a living. By the time the weekend rolled around, she'd be so tired she spent half of it sleeping. We split the chores, and she'd nag me about any school assignments I had, especially long-term projects. She wanted to help me with them, I think, but anything that I had trouble with was well beyond her scope of ability.

"Then one day she noticed I'd gotten a D in home economics. A damned D, in fucking home ec. She was furious. Wanted to know what I had been doing, had I been slacking off, didn't I know that these were skills I'd need some day...hell, she spent a good hour making me feel like I'd slept through the entire school year.

"Know something? It was the most time she'd ever spent talking to me."

Duo laughed, the sound harsh to Heero's ears.

"Didn't take me long to realize that if I did something wrong, she'd pay attention to me. I was a poster child for 'any attention is still attention' and it disgusted me, but I still craved it. Eventually she seemed to expect me to get crappy grades, stopped caring so much."

And once he'd had a taste of her attention, he couldn't go back to how it had been.

"So I had to up the stakes. Started getting into more trouble. Shoplifting, pickpocketing. Never got caught, but I'd make sure she'd see that I was coming home with stuff I had no way of paying for. Sometimes I'd bring home a car just for the sole purpose of parking it in front of the house shortly before she got home, then later I'd move it to some parking lot afterwards. She was all over me again with how I must be either stealing or dealing. Dealing! For cryin' out loud, I thought she knew me better than that."

He laughed again.

"So there I was, doing more and more just for the pleasure of her raking me over the coals verbally. Still was attention, wasn't it?"

A deep breath.

"I think she tried, once, to save me, in her own way. Dragged me to a psychologist. Actually an LCSW. A 'licensed clinical social worker,'" Duo made quotation gestures with his fingers, the same way Trowa often did. The unexpected mental comparison almost made Heero miss Duo's next words.

"She was just one of those community do-gooders who did nothing more than tell my mom that I wasn't suffering from either conduct disorder or ODD. Said I just needed some TLC and sent us on our merry way. They do love their acronyms, these drive-thru shrinks. Wouldn't have been surprised if she'd pinched me on the cheek and told me to buck up, better days were coming.

"I think my mom was pissed, then, because she'd wasted her hard-earned money only to find out there was nothing clinically wrong with me. Like I'd invalidated her parenting ability by being too normal, and yet was still a punk ass JD. After that, I think I was more interested in keeping her in the dark than getting her attention. We were involved in a power struggle, but I didn't see it then."

Duo sighed. His hands reached for the end of his braid and held it in one hand while brushing the tip of it in the palm of the other.

"Then I was offered that damn joint. It was just marijuana, ya know? Nothing too heavy, right? I looked at it like it was the fucking Holy Grail, and I could almost taste it - the escape it offered me, no matter how brief. Maybe my mom would be mad, maybe she wouldn't, but I could see myself simply...not...caring."

Heero saw Duo's shoulders shake. His bitter laughter was silent this time.

"And the funniest thing? I realized that right there was a line I just wasn't going to cross. Felt pretty proud of myself, facing temptation like that and turning it down. I just. Said. No." A shake of Duo's head. "And got busted anyway. Judged by the company you keep and all. Let me tell you, that cop that had me collared was scary as hell. This wasn't my mom, this was real authority.

"I started to ramble, told him I hadn't touched it, even though I'd wanted to, then I realized it wasn't gonna make no difference none, and shut the hell up. His grip on my shoulder was so tight, I swear I thought he was going to break something. Seemed like we stayed like that forever, but couldn't have been more than a few seconds. He looked me right in the eyes, shook his head, swore under his breath about stupid gut instincts and being too soft for his own good. Next thing I know, his fingers loosened just enough to let me pull away, and I took off like a shot. Heard him swear loudly and tell someone, most likely his partner, that one of 'em got away. Gave a description of one of the kids I'd seen smoking behind the school. The guy was sharp. Couldn't for the life of me figure out what the hell he'd been thinking to let me go like that.

"But still, I hadn't given into the urge to take that first hit. I still was in control of my decisions. Figured it was time for a fresh start. Maybe.

"Got home that night, and even though I'd gotten off scot-free, as it were, my mom had been watching the news earlier, and lo and behold, local drug bust involving area teens was one of the highlights. Seems I didn't need to actually get caught or succumb to the lure of drugs to land myself in a heap of trouble. She automatically assumed that I'd been involved. And I had, but not in the way she thought."

Duo wiped a hand across his face, and his next words were slightly muffled for a moment, but not so much that Heero didn't notice that Duo sounded much younger, more vulnerable. His voice held a hint of astonishment as well.

"It HURT. For the first time, that less than positive attention hurt, Heero. She told me that if she hadn't given birth to me, she'd not have believed I was her son. Then I told her that maybe if we had a little more money, I wouldn't need to go out and earn it in my own way. Which was so damn far from the truth, it wasn't funny.

"And the next week she started working a second job."

That's when I realized just how much I'd been manipulating her all along, Duo thought.

Kind words, affection - none of that had ever existed. She cared, but she assumed that she didn't need to respond to anything positive. If it ain't broke, don't fix it - that was her parenting style. She related more to the ugly side of life. She wanted to do right by him, so she spent more and more time away from him, the two of them virtually strangers. If she could have managed it financially, he suspected she'd have tried sending him to military school as well, writing him off as completely as she could and leaving it to someone else to clean up the mess that she once considered a son.

At one point, she'd been so disgusted with him after an argument, especially riled by his cocky smile and smug attitude, knowing that he'd gotten under her skin, that she'd thrown up her hands and told him he was just like his father. The two of them were so surprised by that comment, they stared at each other for close to two-and-a-half minutes before she realized her arms were still upraised and she slowly lowered them. Just before she turned away, putting the lid back on that subject, he thought he saw a flash of pain so deep it made his knees weak. It was the only time he'd given the mysterious donor of half his chromosomal make-up more than a passing thought. Apparently his father hadn't exactly been Mr. Upstanding Citizen, but more than that, his mother still harbored feelings for the man.

On top of the hurt Duo had buried deep inside him, he had confusion to add to the mix. How could she harbor such strong feelings for someone she obviously hated? How involved had they been before she got pregnant?

It was almost too much. He'd wanted to run away on numerous occasions, but he knew that wouldn't accomplish anything. His mother was working two jobs, might as well take advantage of that, right? He was practical, if nothing else.

One morning he woke up and realized it was up to him to escape the fate of his parents. He buckled down and improved his grades. Did the occasional volunteer work at a local youth organization. He didn't work with the kids, but he did odd jobs; painting, moving donated furniture into the lounge, mowing the lawn. He didn't do it for altruistic reasons; he only wanted the community service brownie points that so impressed most colleges. His goal became obtaining a full scholarship to any school that would take him, just so he could get the hell out of Dodge and not look back.

He didn't say any of this to Heero, just stood there, realizing it had been years since he'd examined the motives behind many of his actions now. He didn't like what he saw.

"Ya know, I've never told that to anyone," he said softly.

Heero yearned to reach out and touch Duo's shoulder, perhaps give in to that earlier urge to embrace him. Then Duo's voice took on a cold, impersonal tone.

"But I guess it doesn't much matter, considering that our business is concluded as of tomorrow."

Heero said nothing in response, unable to do anything other than memorize the pattern of tiles underfoot and give a passing thought to the feeling that a herd of elephants had just trampled through his ribcage.

~~~~~

A hand clamped on Quatre's shoulder, and his blood turned to ice.

"Excuse us, gentlemen," he said, his voice tight. It was still Trowa's soft modulated tone, but it was clear he was a tiny bit agitated.

Two of the college boys looked at Trowa's hand on Quatre's shoulder and elbowed each other, snickering. Quatre's face flamed, and he was suddenly very angry at Trowa for ruining what had been an enjoyable moment, even if it was clear at this point that he wouldn't have talked any of them into some 'quality time' in the bathroom. He really wouldn't have gone through with it anyway, not with a cop sitting at the bar, off duty or not. Not with the memory of Trowa's look of disapproval, something he hadn't seen in the entire time they'd known each other - until just this week.

He had no time to continue that line of thought, because Trowa was propelling him away from that table.

And right into the restroom.

As Trowa shut - and locked - the door behind him, Quatre laughed. "I should warn you, I don't give freebies to friends," he said with a smirk.

Trowa's eyes darkened, and Quatre realized his friend was clenching his teeth as well. He couldn't help the way his mouth ran off when he drank. Which was Trowa's fault in the first place, he reminded himself.

"It was really good bourbon," he said, crossing his arms and leaning back against one of the sinks. "Although I think I might have preferred tequila. Maybe next time."

"Shut up," Trowa said, causing Quatre's mouth to drop open. "Just...just shut up for once, Quatre."

Trowa stood there, his arms at his sides, and his fists clenching slightly the way Heero's did at times. The only thing missing was the way Heero would run a hand through his hair when he was feeling particularly frustrated.

He wondered what it would feel like to run his fingers through Trowa's hair, with those impossibly long bangs...

Impossibly long bangs. Something stirred in his memory, but he brushed it aside, waiting with bated breath for Trowa to say something. He wasn't going to. Trowa had told him to shut up. The silence was killing him, though.

"You think you're the only one with problems, don't you, Quatre?"

"No," Quatre shook his head. "No, I-"

"I said to shut up," Trowa warned. "Don't say anything until I'm done. Not a word, so help me, Quatre, not a word."

The quiet tone of voice was laced with repressed emotion, something Quatre had only heard in Heero's voice that first night, and then not ever again.

"Some things aren't that hard to figure out, Quatre, not if you open your fucking eyes and look at what's in front of you," he began. He actually looked at Quatre almost accusingly. "How old are you, Quatre?"

Quatre assumed that Trowa wanted him to answer, despite his warning to keep his mouth shut, but he still couldn't answer. "I - I..."

"I thought so." Trowa raised a hand to his face, and Quatre thought that this time he was going to run his fingers through that hair. Had an odd desire to see him do so, but instead, Trowa just covered his eyes for a moment before lowering his hand again.

"Were you harassed, Quatre? Were you persecuted for being who you are? Did your family shun you for something you had no control over?"

Quatre remained silent, but he thought about it. His father, as far as he knew, had no idea his only son was a homosexual. Almira didn't know either, but her opinion of gays was pretty obvious. Iria seemed tolerant of everyone.

He'd taken off in an attempt to be true to himself, but had taken the easy way out. And ended up selling himself instead. It had been a selfish thing, as if to say, hey, Dad, I'm not just gay, I'm a gay whore. How do you like me now?

"Don't ask, don't tell, don't harass, don't pursue," Trowa said. "What a crock of shit. If you think that bill did anything to protect homosexuals enrolled in the military, you're sadly mistaken. It made it worse. It made people angry that they could be serving alongside someone who might be checking them out. As if all men in the armed forces spent their entire time ogling the few females that were enrolled right alongside them. A lot of heterosexuals ended up being discharged as well."

Quatre stared at him. He'd never given any thought to Trowa's background before. He'd always just been there, the friendly bartender who gave him a smile every day. Not a very big one, but an honest one. He was actually much more giving of smiles than Heero was, but Quatre assumed Trowa knew that people weren't comfortable around a scowling bartender.

"Think it's tough facing your family?" Trowa continued. "Try facing an entire battalion of Recon Marines who don't think you were qualified for the elite Special Forces. Eight-six of us were chosen for the one-year trial. The Marines were going to have their own Special Forces, like the Green Berets or the Navy SEALs. I could have been part of that. I WAS part of that. And then I made the mistake of failing to go along with my comrades on something trivial." He sneered at the word 'comrades.'

"I learned a long time ago that you kept yourself out of trouble by keeping your nose clean and letting others remain responsible for their own actions. In the battlefield, it's one thing. You work as a team, you did your best to never leave a man behind, but if you had to, you cut your losses. Everything, even life, had a cost-benefit analysis. When it came to someone's personal life, I adhered to a live and let live policy. But I forgot that envy and resentment are dangerous bedfellows. The fact that I got picked meant someone else did not."

Quatre was afraid to breathe too loudly.

"I made it, Quatre. I passed all the tests. The written ones. The physical ones. I was in. Then we had that night out to celebrate the success of a recent mission. I went with them, so caught up was I in the excitement of being accepted into the program. Stupid," he said. "Stupid, idiotic thing to do. They were pissed at one of the recons who had been accepted into the program. They made some passing remarks that the guy was probably gay, because he didn't have a girlfriend. Half of us didn't," Trowa said. "Some of us enrolled right out of high school, and even if you had one at the time you enlisted, the physical distance has ended more than one relationship. Especially when you're young," he looked at Quatre meaningfully.

"The guy was also slender, like Heero, and he was incredibly soft spoken. Not many Marines have cultured voices, but it was just the way he talked. Unlike me, he talked a lot, and was an all around friendly guy. I suppose that I was the only one who didn't actively state an opinion one way or another. I didn't think much of it. I just filed it away in the back of my mind, that my cohorts were obviously the type to jump to conclusions, and that I was damn glad they weren't going to be part of the Marine Corps Special Operations Command Detachment One."

He sighed. "Know what the motto of the Recon Marines is?" Quatre shook his head. "Swift, silent, deadly. Yeah, amazing how GHB is like that. But why would I expect someone to slip it into my drink before it got from the bar to the table? No one would have any reason to do so. It's a date rape drug, usually, but people still take it intentionally as well. Although ecstasy use was on the rise in our ranks, GHB was still cropping up here and there.

"The funny thing about GHB is that it's a controlled substance with an approved medical use. Meaning it's legal to possess it under certain circumstances. There's a drug called Xyrem," Trowa said, "and it treats narcolepsy when coupled with cataplexy. Know what that is?"

Quatre shook his head mutely.

"It's a weakening of muscle tone, in a way. Usually it's triggered by some sort of heightened emotional response. Laughter, anger, excitement. The body can become paralyzed temporarily. Xyrem is only medication approved by the FDA for use in patients with narcolepsy and cataplexy, and because of the active ingredient, gamma-hydroxybutyrate, it is tightly controlled. Giving it to someone else can have grave consequences, with both state and federal law.

"Of course, no one with those medical conditions would be allowed in the military, but if you knew someone who was narcoleptic, perhaps you could sneak some from them. Sure, you'd leave them with the burden of explaining why your highly controlled prescription drug seemed to come up short a few pills, but hey, there are casualties in any war.

"I'm only conjecturing at this point," Trowa said, "but I heard enough while I was waiting for them to come back with my blood test results."

Quatre blinked. Surely Trowa did not mean to skip all the in between parts, leaving him to attempt to fill in the blanks himself!

He didn't. After a moment, Trowa began again.

"I do know this. Someone spiked my drink, Quatre. Men who had worked with me, trained with me, gone into combat with me. The Recons...silent, swift, and deadly. I was so fucking proud of that," he said, his voice filled with anger and a bit of loss. "And I was excited as all hell to be one of the few who was good enough for the pilot program. Except someone was apparently waiting for an opportunity, and having one of the Special Operations Command being questioned for illegal drug use was one way of accomplishing that, I suppose.

"I don't know if it was premeditated, or if, of the two of us in our battalion who were chosen for that group, I was picked randomly, but I think that my failing to agree with the rest of them sealed my fate. When you're going to do something that you know is wrong, morally and ethically, sometimes you still suffer a twinge of conscience. What better way to justify it to yourself? Just fabricate a trumped up case against someone who had watched your back in battle just because you decided, based on a complete lack of evidence, that he was homosexual, and therefore had no right being chosen for such an elite honor? Rationalization is a powerful defense mechanism, but when it's turned outwards, logic is not its traveling companion."

He rubbed at his temples again with his right hand.

"After that, I just gave up. There was no way I could ever trust any of them again. Someone who I thought would do anything short of putting his life on the line for me had effectively killed my credibility as a soldier. Never again," he said. "Never again was I going to put my faith in anyone but myself. I accepted a general discharge, Quatre."

His eyes bored holes into Quatre's skull. "A GENERAL discharge. Know what that means? Not an honorable discharge, although thankfully not a dishonorable one, either. A 'general' discharge. It was as ambiguous as they came. But it avoided the pain of being formally brought up on charges, and I was lucky to be given the option. The Marine Corps could have tried to come down hard on me, but I think they wanted to avoid anything that would put a blot on the escutcheon of the newly formed Special Operations.

"And even if I'd been cleared, I knew that they had already decided I didn't belong, and I could see them starting rumors about my sexual preferences, even though I was one of the few practicing abstinence at the time. That's why that don't ask, don't tell bill is a joke. No one has to ask. They just have to speculate. I told you that a few straights were discharged. That's a fact."

His eyes, which had looked like green flames a moment ago, now had faded slightly, and seemed more like emeralds. Quatre wondered why he'd never noticed the intensity in Trowa's eyes. Perhaps it was because this was the first time he was allowed to see so much emotion.

Usually he could tell how someone was feeling, using their body language and his oft-unpredictable, sporadic empathic abilities. Heero often shuttered his emotions from himself, but he had his own set of 'tells' at times. It was as if the more he closed himself off, the more turbulent his thoughts would be if he allowed them free rein. Therefore Heero with a rigid posture meant he was fighting something extremely disturbing to him. At least that's what it meant around Quatre. Around others, it probably meant he was trying not to give into the urge to beat the shit out of them.

But Trowa had seemed a blank slate. A friendly face, but one that offered little in return as far as what went on behind those green depths.

He'd known Trowa for nearly a year, but had never really thought of what made him tick. He was just always there.

Quatre almost started when Trowa began speaking again, and it was eerie the way Trowa's words seemed to overlap his own thoughts.

"I know that you hate when people look at you and assume you're innocent, and naïve, and safe. It's the safe part that kills you, doesn't it? That no one fears being around you, no one assumes you will make them lose control when you're fucking them. Even Heero finds you safe to be around, and it eats you up inside to know he doesn't feel for you the same way you feel for him. Being safe isn't very appealing. You want danger, and want to be dangerous. It's what draws you to Heero. Part of you thinks you deserve it, and part of you wants to take it and mold it into something else. Well, Quatre, you can't have it both ways."

"You don't know anything about me," Quatre said, forgetting his promise to be quiet and needing to redirect his wayward thoughts. "Or what I think, or how I feel."

Trowa reached over and grasped him by both shoulders, and Quatre thought for a moment that he was going to be shaken until his teeth rattled, but all that happened was Trowa's hands tightened their grip for a moment.

At that brief moment of contact, suddenly Quatre KNEW. He felt like a blindfold had been lifted, but by then, Trowa's eyes were once again two blazing flames, like demon fire in a fantasy novel.

Those hellfire orbs flicked down to his lips for a second before returning to his eyes, and then Quatre realized Trowa was shoving him away roughly.

"It isn't always about you!"

Trowa practically wrenched the doorknob loose as he tried to open it without unlocking it first. Quatre watched him go, stunned by his friend's loss of composure and the weight of the words he'd spewed.

He felt like he'd just been through an intense battle, intact but not unscathed. At the same time, he was still hopelessly adrift, like an aluminum can in a tidal wave, breaking the surface now and then before the water washed over him once again, and during it all, constantly spinning in whatever direction the restless tide took him.

He pushed himself away from the wall.

Trowa was digging in his pocket for something when Quatre emerged from the restroom.

"Cathy, you're off duty tomorrow, right?" he called to the woman who had taken his place behind the bar.

"Yup."

He tossed her a set of keys, which she deftly caught with one hand.

"Lock up for me."

And he stormed out of the bar, leaving Quatre staring at the open door.

Cathy looked at the blond man and shook her head.

Quatre reached out one hand as if to stop Trowa, even though it was far too late for that. He walked over to the bar and sat down heavily, ignoring the glare he was getting from the woman. He almost wished she'd arrest him, or at least throw him out, for being underaged and in a bar.

Just before Trowa left, Quatre had recognized the exact color of his eyes.

They were the same shade as the turf-type tall fescue grass his father had planted around their estate.

~~~~~

Duo had taken a shower shortly after their discussion on the balcony. He'd needed to get away from the war of emotions that little revelation had caused.

He was so damn tired. He felt weary, all the way to his soul. He picked up the wide toothed comb and sat on the bed, pulling his wet hair around in front. He set the hair tie on the nightstand next to him before pulling the comb through the long strands.

He loved the way his hair felt when it was still wet. It was still smooth, reborn, even. Then it dried and the years of exposure to sun and wind became apparent. He was sure it would look a complete mess if he didn't use the best products on the market. They were expensive, but they worked. He'd started growing his hair just to spite his mother, who associated long hair with undisciplined youth. In a way, she'd been right.

He hadn't even thought of his mother in years, and yet this past week he found himself thinking of how she'd figure he was getting nothing more or less than he deserved. He had done what he'd set out to do. Had gotten that education, had turned the odds in his favor. Maybe he wasn't breaking the law anymore, but the same skills that made him a good thief easily applied to being a shark in the business world.

He didn't believe in astrology anymore than Heero did, but he sure as hell had to thank someone or something for his crossing paths with Meiran Long that day. He doubted he'd have ever approached Wufei otherwise, and the two of them were an almost unbeatable team.

His hand slowed in its brushing motion as his eyes drifted shut.

Heero joined him a few minutes later. He'd collected their empty water bottles and returned to the balcony to give Duo some time to himself. He'd seemed to need it, and Heero was still feeling a bit off kilter after Duo's last words. Neither of them had said a word since then.

He paused in the doorway to the bedroom, and saw that a large portion of Duo's hair was over one shoulder. He'd fallen asleep while combing it.

Heero was afraid to approach him, as if he was an apparition that would disappear if he got too close. There was something about Duo's hair being unbound that made him look younger. He finally stepped closer and reached for the comb in Duo's lax fingers. The illusion of youth was marred by the slight wrinkles in the corners of Duo's eyes. He imagined Duo was in his mid to late twenties, just as he was, but it seemed the two of them had lived a lifetime in such a short period of time.

He chided himself for being so melodramatic, and quietly slipped into bed next to Duo. He wanted to reach over and touch the slumbering man, but he was afraid that their time together had already ended.

He turned his back to the wall, unable to look at Duo for fear of reaching toward him in his sleep.

After a couple of hours, he realized how useless that fear had been, because he was no closer to sleep than he'd been when he slipped under the covers. He gave up and turned back around, propping himself up on one elbow.

He watched Duo as he slept, the gentle rise and fall of his chest with each breath. His eyes traveled over the unbound hair, the hair that up until now he'd only seen tied in a neat braid. He felt a twinge of guilt that Duo had been so exhausted that he'd fallen asleep before braiding his hair. It was going to be difficult to brush all the tangles out in the morning, Heero thought with a smile.

If things were already over, then it wouldn't matter much what he did at this point, he decided. His hand reached out to brush some of the loose hair away from Duo's face. His fingers were less than an inch from their destination when he was bitten by the sharp fangs of longing. He swallowed a cry and hurriedly got off the bed. He needed to get some air.

He was standing on the balcony, his gaze fixed on the distant stars, when Duo found him moments later. Duo looked at Heero, who was now dressed in nothing more than the hotel pajama bottoms. They were a bit too long for Heero, and therefore the backside of the pant legs were under his heels. He looked a bit like a little boy who hadn't yet grown into his PJs.

Heero wanted to apologize for waking Duo, but was afraid of speaking, of saying something he might regret.

"She was always so impulsive," he heard himself say. "When she was five, she told me she was going to marry me someday." So much for not saying something he'd regret. Maybe it was time he shared something with Duo. Quid pro quo. And it was a much safer topic than the one that had been plaguing him all day.

Duo was shocked to hear the achingly sad voice coming from him, and he felt an answering pang at Heero's words. This had to be the friend who, he assumed, had suffered a fatal gunshot wound at some point. He hadn't expected to hear that marriage was part of the equation.

"God, she was a brat," Heero said, his voice tight. "I was fascinated by her from the start. She was the youngest out of seven at the time, and I was an only child. Even back then, I think, I wanted to protect her."

He didn't offer anymore.

"Did you love her?" Duo asked quietly, knowing that this woman was the key to unlocking Heero's secrets, and wondering why it should matter this late in the game.

Heero continued staring out at the vast expanse of sky. It seemed a ridiculous question, considering the depth of emotion he had for her, but he'd already realized he had loved her. He hadn't just wanted to protect her or spend time with her, but had actually loved her. It seemed such an insufficient word to describe what he was feeling. That was what Quatre had seen in him, something that had been there all along. His heart. It felt as if something that had been tightly wound in the deepest recesses of his soul was starting to unravel with the sudden knowledge of what it was that he'd been fighting against all week.

Kitty had encouraged him to follow his emotions without saying a word. It was when he'd stopped following that unspoken advice when things had gone so horribly wrong.

He hadn't wanted to stay behind after that last job, but he'd felt everyone else had someone to go home to. Although his heart had told him to turn it down so he could take care of the mess he'd left of things between him and Kitty, he'd agreed to serve in a role that was little more than a glorified bodyguard, which wasn't in his job description. Not like that. If he'd turned it down, he'd have been home before she ever stopped at that Exxon station.

"Did you know the Colombia has the highest murder rate in the world? In the world. Eight times that of the United States," he said quietly. If her father hadn't emigrated to the United States, she might still be alive.

If they'd stayed in Barranquilla, he'd never have met her.

He'd thought at times she was center of his universe but realized if that were really true, he'd never have left. Maybe he could rationalize his career choice that way, but honestly it had just been something he personally felt very strongly about. Kitty would have been the first to point that out.

It wasn't losing Kitty that was sending the knife through his heart.

Duo came up behind him and wrapped his right arm around Heero's chest, his left hand dropping to Heero's hip as he rested his chin on Heero's shoulder, saying nothing. Despite the warmth of the body behind him, Heero shivered with each exhalation of Duo's breath on his skin. Heero pressed back against Duo, and they stood like that for a while, before he felt the awakening of Duo's desire against his buttocks. Duo's left hand slid up his side, fingers dancing as they passed his ribcage, and brushing his neck with the back of his hand before tangling in his hair. Heero turned his head to face Duo at that awkward angle, and swallowed the lump that had been building in his throat before closing his eyes and parting his lips slightly.

Duo's breath caught in his throat as he recognized the invitation. It took him several seconds for it to register, because he'd long since given up on it. Heero's breath hitched painfully, and he realized that he might never get this invitation again. He took his time closing the distance to Heero's mouth. Their lips touched tentatively, then he slid his eyes closed as he ran his tongue along Heero's bottom lip. Heero's lips were slightly chapped from the wind, and not quite as soft as Duo had imagined, but the reality was that Heero was no longer denying him. There was no flavored lip-gloss interfering with Heero's taste, no perfume to mask his scent. Heero's mouth opened beneath his, and Duo slid his tongue inside the warm cavern, feeling as if he'd breached an impenetrable wall. A wave of pure warmth flowed through him, something almost as frightening in its intensity as in its unfamiliarity.

Heero welcomed the invasion. He'd never been one for French kissing, as it had seemed more work and little pleasure. None of the women he'd kissed had ever tried to put their tongue in his mouth, and he'd been rather turned off to the whole kissing thing after he'd botched his own attempt.

Duo knew how to kiss. Heero wondered if it was something he'd just always been good at, and then he didn't spare any more thought to the whys and wherefores, instead abandoning himself to the feel of Duo's tongue stroking the roof of his mouth.

Duo realized that Heero's tongue had started to tangle with his, and his half-awakened erection came to full attention at the reciprocation.

Heero's breath hitched as Duo continued to plunder his mouth, and he let Duo maintain control of the kiss. Duo's right hand slid up to graze a nipple, his thumb teasing it as his rigid cock pulsed against Heero's backside. Heero's right hand grasped Duo's, clutching it to his chest and halting the motion of Duo's fingers. His breathing took on the sound of a strangled sob just before he began sucking on Duo's tongue. Duo's free hand made its way to Heero's hair, and suddenly Heero knew what people meant when they said their knees had turned to jelly. He leaned back against the other man, letting Duo support his most of his weight as the kiss deepened.

Oh, God, Duo, Heero thought desperately. What have you done to me?

He had to regain the position of power in this. He turned in the half embrace and thrust both hands into the wealth of hair Duo possessed, suddenly the aggressor in their kiss, not caring that he'd never been good at it. Duo recognized his initial inexperience, but Heero had enough practice in using his tongue on other body parts that he was soon caressing Duo's tongue with his own.

Duo let him lead in the duel going on in their mouths, but he started to back up slowly, taking Heero with him. On their way to the bedroom, they both worked at ridding Heero of the pants. Duo's hip hit a table, and Heero stubbed his toe on a chair, but each twinge of pain made the gnashing of teeth and lips and tongue impossibly deeper, impeding their progress to the bedroom by degrees without halting it altogether. Duo knew what Heero's body was asking for, demanding, even if Heero didn't, and he had no intention of saying no. Didn't think he'd be able to even if he did. It was the last line to be crossed, and Duo did nothing by half measure.

Heero's hands and mouth were everywhere once they reached the bed. He fastened his lips onto Duo's shoulder one moment before licking his neck. His hands ran up and down Duo's sides as his mouth suckled one of Duo's nipples, then he was running his tongue along the crest of Duo's earlobe and pulling it into his mouth.

He was uncaged passion, and Duo realized that he was going to have more than a few physical reminders of this in the morning, but he'd never seen Heero let himself go like this, not even earlier that day when Duo had only THOUGHT Heero was all over him. Duo's whole body was a screaming bundle of nerves as Heero alternately caressed and assaulted his flesh.

"I have..." Heero's teeth biting his shoulder. "...to have..." his fingers fondling Duo's sac. "You." A tongue in his navel. "Need..." Lips back at Duo's ear. "Duo, I..." his voice sounded strangled, and Duo's body responded to the sheer force of Heero's aching need.

"Take me," Duo hissed. "God DAMN it, Heero, take me, FUCK me," he gasped as Heero hit another sensitive spot with his tongue. Hearing those words spill from his own mouth was turning him on almost as much as Heero's ministrations. He wasn't sure if he was ordering or begging. "Ram that cock in me, just FUCK ME THROUGH THE MATTRESS!"

If he'd thought Heero was out of control before, his words took down the rest of the flimsy barricade that had kept Heero's lust at bay. This Heero wasn't a professional escort, wasn't a mere whore with a toolbox full of sexual parlor tricks. He was a man possessed. Flames of desire licked at Duo's body, fueled by Heero's frenzied lovemaking, if it could even remotely be considered that. Pandora's box had been opened, and Duo was struck with the very real awareness that Heero was quite capable of killing him with his bare hands. The idea was disturbingly erotic.

Heero let loose with a stream of Japanese mixed with a smattering of Spanish, the words often muffled, as his mouth couldn't seem to stay away from Duo's body for long. Most of them were words that Duo had never heard before, but his knowledge of either language was limited to more formal speech. The idea that Heero was most likely talking dirty to him made a long groan escape his throat.

Heero's actions were laced with desperation, as if he feared Duo might disappear at any moment. One hand refused to let go of Duo, maintaining contact with the other man as his free hand fumbled to uncap the tube of lubricant that he'd removed from the nightstand at some point.

Duo didn't offer to help. His mind was oddly dissociated from his body, and if it weren't for the fact that his hips were grinding against Heero insistently, he'd have felt like a mere observer instead of a participant. He felt both powerless and in control. It was a heady sensation, but overwhelming as well.

Heero thrust two fingers into Duo without warning, and Duo couldn't help the hiss of pain despite the generous amount of lube Heero had used. There was a glint of near madness in Heero's eyes as he stared at Duo for several heartbeats with his mouth hanging open. The moment was gone as Heero's tongue swiped at his own lips and he forced his fingers into Duo further, finally hitting his prostate. Duo arched his back at the unfamiliar sensation. This, right here, explained so much about anal sex. And yet it wasn't the focal point of his yearning.

"Heero..." Duo didn't recognize his own voice, heavy with lust and sounding as hoarse as if he'd been screaming.

"Duo," was the answering rumble. Heero's passion-glazed eyes went impossibly wide, and he added a third finger, pumping them in and out of Duo almost frantically, as if he couldn't prep him fast enough.

Duo's mouth moved, but no sounds came out. Oh, GOD, Heero, his mind pleaded. Do something. Save me from this need, this emptiness...

And then Heero's fingers withdrew, and his hands were on Duo's thighs, clamping onto them. Heero fumbled, seeming at a loss for a moment, then awkwardly managed to get Duo's legs up in the air and resting on Heero's shoulders. Duo could feel the click coolness of the gel on Heero's fingers as his lover positioned himself between Duo's legs. One of Heero's hands moved to Duo's hip, and the other guided his cock to Duo's entrance. At the first brush of the slick head, Heero made a choking sound and then he forced his way into Duo in one swift move.

It was too fast for Duo, but he bit down on his lip as he watched Heero's face look almost incredulous. Surprised. A little unsure. Then the discomfort receded and Duo clenched his inner muscles.

Both of Heero's hands were on his hips now, and the shocked look turned to one of possession just before his eyes slid shut. His entire body shuddered. Duo could feel the tremors. Then Heero drew back slightly and thrust in again. Duo repressed a groan as Heero began to piston in and out of him, his movements becoming hard and desperate.

It was like watching someone try to claw his way out of quicksand, Duo thought hazily, then Heero hit his prostate and he moaned. The fingers at his hips dug into his skin, and no attention was paid to his own erection as Heero pounded into him relentlessly. The headboard, the sturdy wrought iron headboard, was slamming into the wall. It was a good thing there were no adjoining neighbors in the penthouse suite. In any other situation, Duo might have been amused.

He forced himself to keep his eyes open, watching Heero's face in fascination, watching his lips move, chanting.

Duo's name. Heero was saying Duo's name, and nothing else, over and over, in time with each thrust. His eyes were closed now, his head bowed slightly, wisps of dark hair clinging to his glistening face. Duo found the sound of his name coming raggedly from Heero's mouth both arousing and frightening.

Heero's fingers tightened painfully on Duo's hips, and Duo winced, wondering how long it would be before the bones just crumbled to powder. Suddenly Heero threw back his head and screamed, a primal sound that should have had the paintings on the wall falling to the floor with its sheer force. Duo's ears were ringing as Heero flooded him with warmth, and then he just deflated. His cock slid out of Duo, and he rolled to his side, burying his face in the mattress.

Duo was still hard.

Heero was just lying there, his breath coming in heaving gasps, and the sheets were twisted in his clenched fists. Duo could do nothing more than stare, watching as the irregular breathing slowed and the tension gradually seeped out of Heero's body.

After the deafening shriek Heero had made, it was almost too quiet. The only sound was his own heartbeat thudding in his ears.

Heero had left him unsatisfied. Heero, a prostitute who had initially treated Duo's orgasms like some sort of mission, had just fucked him raw, then rolled over and gone to sleep.

And yet, despite not having climaxed, despite the burning in his ass, despite knowing he'd taken a huge risk in not stopping Heero to insist he put a condom on first, despite the bruises and bite marks he knew probably decorated a small portion of his body...

It had been the most incredible sexual experience of his life. Not the best sex, not even necessarily an experience he'd like to repeat, but mind-blowing all the same. It was nothing like sex with a woman. Not even close. Nothing like sex with a man, when done the other way around, either. His hand reached down to cup his sac. God, the feel of Heero's cock, driving into him...

He stared at the ceiling, a rueful smirk on his lips. Any lingering doubts of his sexual attraction towards men had been wiped clean. He didn't think any man would have been able to withstand the tempest of wanton desire that had been Heero.

He would never again in his life experience that. It was like making love to a herd of satyrs. His mind picked out the details he hadn't been able to focus on during the act. The open expression on Heero's face, so different from the mask he usually wore, or the tiny smiles he'd allowed to break free on occasion. His lips, wet and swollen from their earlier kisses - at this he touched his lips. He remembered the glistening that had appeared between Heero's lashes. Duo had been afraid for a split second; afraid that he'd glimpsed something he shouldn't have for so many reasons.

To keep his mind from pursuing that line of thought, he briefly cataloged the injuries he anticipated feeling in the morning. One hand crept up to his chest, and he made an unconscious rubbing motion. If he were to pick the one part of his body that was throbbing with pain the most, it was there. Each heartbeat seemed to amplify the ache, and he wondered dully if he'd ever be the same again.

Heero awoke a few hours later, surprised to find Duo's arm flung across his stomach, his fingers splayed along his hip, and Duo's head pillowed on his chest. His steady breathing indicated he was asleep. Heero's nose twitched. Duo's hair was everywhere: in his face, around his forearm, across his chest, his groin, his legs, and some of it was probably trapped between and beneath their bodies as well. He reached out his free hand, the one Duo didn't have ensnared between the two of them, and brought a handful of the burnished bronze to his face. He inhaled deeply, and felt that same bittersweet longing. It wasn't as sharp as it had been earlier, but Heero assumed it was because his body was still feeling a bit numb from all that had happened. It was a physical satiation only, but it took the edge of the emotional side of things.

What had happened? He had flashes of memory, of wanting Duo, touching Duo, not able to get enough of Duo. He remembered Duo asking him for it. God, Duo...

"What have you done to me, Duo?" he asked quietly. "What the hell have you DONE to me?"

His thumb stroked Duo's hair, toying with a knot in the long strands.

"Damn it, Duo," he whispered into the hair between his fingers. "Damn it." He breathed in the scent of Duo again and was quiet for a few moments. "I...I've never...you were..." he struggled to find the words he wanted. "That was...oh, Duo..." he practically groaned Duo's name before trailing off helplessly.

"You were lost when I found you," Heero finally managed. "But I've been lost ever since..." his voice became tight, and he hated himself for it. "For a very long time." His fingers clenched at the hair he was caressing. "Duo," he begged quietly. "Don't let me...I don't want to stay lost anymore, Duo." He swallowed the lump in his throat before placing a soft kiss on the tangle in Duo's hair. He closed his eyes, but his fingers refused to let go of the impossible network of knots. He took several deep breaths, matching his breathing to Duo's. By doing so he was able to calm himself by degrees until his body relaxed and he fell back asleep.

As soon as the grip on his hair loosened, Duo's eyes snapped open. He stared at the wall on the other side of the bed, now assured that he would not get a wink of sleep the rest of the night.

tbc

~~~~~

This chapter dedicated to Asuka Kureru for making me giddy with praise earlier today and convincing me to make this a special double length chapter. I really didn't want to break it into two separate parts, despite its looooong length, because I wanted all the revelations kept together (although I had to for the mailing list, because let's face it, it's huge).

Hope it was all you dreamed it would be!

~~~~~

Now for the rambling author's notes:

Originally the working title of this chapter was "Ascending the Oubliette" when the focus was on Duo's background, and I thought I might make that opening scene its own chapter, but I decided that title didn't work as well for the overall theme. Why? Oubliette - from the French oublier, "to forget" - a dungeon with an opening at only the top. Usually a concealed pit beneath the ground. I've heard it referred to as the "pit of despair" or "pit of forgetfulness" in various works of literature. Just imagine one's reaction to the sun after being released from the oubliette!

OK. I cringed a bit to bring up the Michael Jackson video, but Thriller was a landmark video for its time, and it was the only video I could find the budget for online. And to think, I remember him when he was famous for being a performing artist! You'd think it would be easy to find something for a more recent video, just type in 'music video budgets' and go on your merry way...but noooooo... In case you're wondering, the Thriller video allegedly had a million dollar budget, which was quite a hefty sum considering it was made 20 years ago. More useless trivia - John Landis, who directed Thriller, also directed the 1973 film Schlock, which had a budget of $61,000. Compare those two costs with the $643,330 price tag on the Enzo.

Apollo the Sun God - I've seen the Greek Sun God named both Helios and Apollo, (Sol and Apollo in Roman mythology), but I thought Apollo just sounded more romantic.

Icarus - the boy who flew too close to the sun. Daedalus and his son, Icarus, escaped from King Minos on the isle of Crete. Ah, the story as to why Daedalus was imprisoned in the first place has to do with helping the cursed Queen Pasiphae mate with a bull (later giving birth to the Minotaur). So crafty Daedalus manages to escape, then he fashions two pairs of wings from feathers and wax. He cautioned his son not to fly too low, or the waves from the water below would drench the wings, nor too high, or the sun would melt the wax. The impulsiveness of youth! Icarus was so excited by his sense of freedom and his newfound power of flight that he kept soaring higher in the sky, eventually flying too close to the sun despite his father's warnings. The wax melted, the wings fell apart, and he fell into the sea and perished.

The Shoemaker and the Elves - there's a little online storybook with animated graphics if you want to check it out here: http://www.shoemakerandtheelves.com/en/main

ODD - Oppositional Defiant Disorder, characterized by several behavioral traits, including, but not limited to, being argumentative with adults, actively defying adults' requests, loss of temper, and feelings of anger and resentment.

Conduct Disorder overlaps ODD, but tends to include aspects such as bullying and cruelty to animals.

I'm once again oversimplifying things, and don't mean to make light of either disorder, but I wanted to provide "just enough" information to satisfy any curiosity anyone might have.

JD - juvenile delinquent

Most military schools will not accept recalcitrant, unwilling students, and parents of students asked to leave the school are still responsible for the tuition, which must be paid up front.

Several sources I've checked have reported both increases and decreases in the number of discharges from military service due to sexual orientation. The harassment part of the policy allows both homosexuals and heterosexuals to report the harassment on the grounds that someone has "alleged" that they are homosexual. Of course, although the commanding officer is required to investigate, can you imagine anyone wanting to risk having the tables turned on them? There's a good article, although somewhat dated, on the policy, from October 2000:

http://www.sldn.org/templates/get/record.html?section=6&record =23

A September 2003 conference commemorating the 10-year anniversary of this bill was held at Hofstra University in Long Island. Gay City News, Volume 2, Issue 37, mentions the conference and also states that the policy is responsible for an increase in discharges and harassment.

Fescue grass - Combat is the turf style tall fescue grass variety that I pictured. I almost made mention of it by name, but I liked Quatre's realization uncluttered as it was. Combat is drought tolerant, due to its long roots, making it ideal for drier climates, and the leaves are allegedly darker green and softer than its predecessors, including Kentucky-31 tall fescue. The other fescue subspecies, the fine fescues, are more tolerant of shade and cold.

Satyrs - half man, half goat, and reputed to engage in wild behavior, usually involving the deflowering of nymphs and women.

One last note! The balcony scene where Duo approaches Heero was partly inspired by the Atsumi Anikees doujinshi image currently on the home page of the 1x2ML. I started writing the scene, and then I realized that I could "see" it so much better with a visual aid. Besides, I just wanted an excuse to look at the picture again. I'm sure I could find it and provide a link to it on another website, but I don't want to inadvertently create any bandwidth issues for anyone by doing that without their express permission. Listen to me, like I'm going to cause a mad rush of people trying to access the pic just because of this fic. Now if I could just get my grubby little paws on a copy of that particular doujinshi...