Author's Note: Here we go. I found some more Gundam stuff. This one I could have sworn I posted before. I wrote it...quite a long time ago when I was in college. Maybe I just posted it to a yaoi ML. There's no actual sex, but DEFINITELY implied 1x2 in here. So, there we are. Lemonade.

'Ubi Caritas' means 'With Charity' and IS a hymn. We used to sing it when I was in choir. The full lyrics are 'Ubi caritas et amor, Ubi caritas Deus ibi est," which means "With charity and love. With charity God is all." The other song is from 'Sister Act' I'd been watching 'Sister Act' when I was inspired to write this.

"Uuubii caritas, et aaamorrr…uubi caritas deeus iiibii est…" Duo sang, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. The hymn had been stuck in his head all morning, and he hoped that he could get it out, and move on. It was kind of boring though the same line over and over, it was getting on his nerves. He searched his mind for something a little more upbeat.

Heero turned around from his laptop and looked towards the bathroom door that was closed. Was that really Maxwell? He hadn't expected such dulcet tones to be able to come out of the mouth that talked almost faster than he could type. The words made him curious, they weren't in English that was for sure, and the American pilot had professed to be a dunce when it came to other languages than that one. He opened another window on the computer screen and typed them in. "Tesse" came up in the search. They were Latin choral psalms for a Catholic Church service. Well he did wear a priest's outfit; it wasn't inconceivable that he would know psalms.

"Hmm…" he said to himself, "how did that one go?" He turned off the water, and reached for a towel with one hand to wipe his eyes. He knew it was another hymn but they'd vamped it up quite a bit on the movie that he'd been watching. So, maybe it could take his mind off things. He didn't quite trust himself to sing anything else without incurring the righteous Japanese wrath of his roommate. Who was probably annoyed with him anyway for taking so long in the shower, anyway.

He heard the American pilot mutter something to himself and turned the shower off. He started singing again, this time slightly more up tempo and in English, "Hail, holy King and God above, oh, Maria…hail mother of mercy and of love, oh, Maria." This one Heero recognized without having to look it up, it had been on a movie the other boy had insisted on watching the other night about a woman who'd wound up hiding from mobsters in a convent and teaching the nuns to sing, "triumph oooh, ye cherubim, sing with us sweet seraphim…heav'n and Earth resound the hymn, salvate, sa-alvate, salvate Regina." His voice was so soft, almost feminine in inflection.

Heero shook his head, and turned back to the computer screen, closing the Tesse window and looking back at the schematics he was supposed to be analyzing. He tried to ignore Duo's singing in the other room. Maxwell. He corrected. Maxwell's singing. Then he wondered if Duo was getting dressed in the other room, and shook his head again.

"Sing with us sweet seraphim," Duo sang again. Heero could hear him opening the medicine cabinet, "Heaven and Earth resound the hymn, salvate, salvate, Regina…our lives are…" The Japanese boy sighed, and was about to try asking Du--Maxwell to keep it down when he realized that he'd stopped singing. He prepared for the bathroom door to open and the American to come bouncing in hair flying around everywhere, smelling of vanilla, or ocean breeze or whatever shampoo he was using, Heero hastily added, but nothing happened.

He started to towel himself off, reaching through his memory to make sure that he kept singing the right words. Sister Helen had sung it before, he remembered, sedately and slowly, with reverence.

He put down the towel and reached for his shirt, flipping his hair out from being trapped under it. To Sister Helen every word was prayer, what would she think of him singing as a distraction? A prayer to the God who'd neglected her, a distraction that wasn't working… "Our lives are…" he stopped. He knew the next words. He was supposed to say, "sweetness here below…" but he just-he just couldn't. He felt himself curling up inside and out, and then he was sitting on the floor crying.

You're turning into such a wimp; he chastised himself. That movie was full of nuns and you didn't cry. You didn't even cry that long when the church blew up…why cry now almost ten year later…? You're supposed to be happy. Sister Helen wanted you to be happy. Father Maxwell…would he have thought it was right to pick up a gun and start shooting people?

Heero listened more closely to the lack of singing. Was that…was that crying?

He should do something.

He stood up and went to the bathroom door, to knock, and then hesitated. If it were him what would he want to happen? If it were him he wouldn't be crying in the bathroom like a fool. He turned away, but this wasn't him, this was Duo…this was the long chestnut haired…he stopped. This was the loud mouth that had annoyed him since they first met when he shot him…TWICE, but he'd apologized for it, after actually rescuing him from the Federation base he'd been stupid enough to allow himself to get captured in.

He was someone that had sat and listened, when he himself had lamented that he hadn't been able to actually kill Relena. Despite the fact that there was apparently no love lost between the blonde girl and the American pilot.

"Maxwell, is everything all right in there?" he settled on, it seemed safe enough.

Duo sat bolt upright. Heero had heard him, and what would Mr. Perfect Soldier think if he knew that he was sniveling in the bathroom like a little kid. He already thinks you're a total annoyance, Duo reminded himself. He took a deep breath and pulled everything back in. Be happy, be happy, he repeated to himself. There's no reason to be crying like this. It was ten years ago. It happened. Can't do anything about it now.

There was no answer for a moment. He could almost swear that he heard someone sucking in a deep breath and then a cheery sounding voice, "Yeah, it's fine! No worries. Sorry...did you need to get in here?" there was a quaver.

Unbidden to himself Heero hesitated. He didn't…what should he say.

He heard the click of the door unlatching, and the door opened a crack, not enough to really see inside, "Something wrong, Heero?"

"No," he moved hastily back to the desk and tried to start again on the schematics.

Heero almost seemed to scuttle back over to his desk and start working with avengence. Duo watched him for a moment as he found a brush and sat down on the edge of his bed to brush out his hair. He was anticipating a lecture on the impractical length of it, but when there wasn't one, he looked over to the Japanese boy. Was he imagining it? He could swear that was the same screen that had been on there when he went into the bathroom. He couldn't resist, "Are you sure everything's alright, Heero? You're on the same page of the diagram that you were on when I went in…"

"I am?" The Japanese pilot felt a strange heat covering his face.

"Yes, you are." Duo crossed the room and stood behind him, and then peered over his shoulder, "That's a missile carrier. I know what they look like." He pointed, "Ne, you're blushing, Hii-chan…" he wheedled, using the nickname he had picked up when Heero had been explaining suffixes to him, and refused to drop no matter how many times he was told it was impolite.

"Don't call me that." Heero said, clicking over to the next screen.

"Don't tell me you're having problems with your work…I thought you were Robot-Man…." Duo laughed.

At least his mood seems to have improved…Heero thought…even if it is at my expense…

"You got something on your mind, Hii-chan?" He asked, figuring he may as well milk this for all it was worth. It was fun given that it usually got some kind of reaction from the Japanese boy that he then seemed unsure what to do with.

He still wasn't sure exactly what was wrong with Heero. It seemed almost as if he wasn't supposed to have emotions, and yet, still somewhere inside they were there. He remembered when they'd met up for the third time, after Heero had split from Howard's cargo ship. He'd been frustrated with himself for not having killed Relena, and had muttered about it for a little while before realizing that Duo was there. Iit seemed that emotions confused him. There was something about 'another little girl' and then it had gone. Like his brain shut it off and filed it away and Heero had been okay again.

For a moment Duo had thought he'd envied him…and then he'd just wanted to wrap Heero up in a hug until he was able to face everything. Emotions were those things that you couldn't erase completely, Duo knew. No matter how much he made himself be happy, the sadness would always be there. He started brushing his hair again, "Sit down over and tell Father Max—." Oh, now that was stupid. He turned around quickly, remind yourself right of everything again when you've just regained control. Now, what's he going to think of you? If he suspected before, he's definitely going to know now, and…why do you care anyway?

Heero turned when the American's voice cut off sharply. Duo was facing away from him, again, "I was distracted."

"Oh?" He was trying to sound overly incredulous, but there was a twinge that made Heero certain that he was trying to be sure and not cry again, "I didn't think Heero Yuy-sama got distracted."

"He does when someone's singing incredibly well in the shower."

Duo's whole body shivered, and his head sank down. Heero found himself crouched behind him on the bed. Before he was quite aware of what he was doing he had wrapped his arms around the other boy and was holding him against his chest, as Duo sobbed. Then the American seemed suddenly aware of where he was for the first time, "Oh, man!" he pulled away, "Heero…I-I'm sorry…I…" then he stopped again, "you…you were holding me?"

"Yes," Heero answered, almost with an 'of course' after it.

Duo looked at Heero suspiciously. What was going on? Was Heero worried about me? He almost felt like laughing at how incredibly stupid that sounded. This was Heero Yuy. This was the emotionless robot. No, he corrected himself, there were emotions, of course there were, he just wasn't supposed to have them, "Okay…who are you and what have you done with Heero?"

Heero glared at him.

"Forgive me," Duo went on, "but you're not supposed to have a sympathetic bone in your body, especially for a baka idiot who's crying like a baby over something incredibly stupid that happened a long time ago, and doesn't matter."

Heero found himself aware that Duo was probably trying to convince himself more than anyone else about that fact, "If it was upsetting…" he said, "You…you shouldn't ignore it." He looked away.

"Heero?" Duo leaned forward to try and see the other pilot's face.

"I…I don't deal well with my emotions because…I can't…" he managed, "Don't turn yourself into something like me…just because…just because."

He felt the warm body wrap around him before it was aware of it, "I knew…" the American breathed on the nape of his neck, "I knew there was something behind your eyes…I knew…when you were telling me about Relena…I wanted to wrap you up in my arms and hold you until you could…until you could feel safe enough to let it out, but I thought, I thought," and he felt Duo's tears warm and wet on his back, "I thought you'd probably try and kill me…and for once I didn't want that to happen, because if I was dead I wouldn't be able to help you."

"Maxwell…" Heero muttered.

Duo lifted his head, part of him was wondering why Heero hadn't just thrown him off of him, like he'd done that first night when the American had pounced on him in the cabin Howard had decreed they should both spend the night in. "Use your wiles to find out what he knows," Howard had said.

Heero slid around to face him again, and sat back on the bed, then he raised a hand to the other boy's face and wiped his eyes, "I know I'm a stupid idiot. I'll leave you alone now."

Heero grabbed hold of Duo's wrist as he started to turn away, feeling roughness like scars, he looked down, as Duo tried to pull away but couldn't, given the Japanese boy's vice like grip. Heero pulled up the shirt sleeve, a knotted line of skin that had healed messily stretched for about an inch and a half up Duo's wrist and the same distance across, the lines formed a T shape, but they weren't the same age, "You…"

Duo felt his stomach clench up. He was normally so careful about that. The other boy was Japanese…didn't they have some kind of ruling that suicide was dishonorable? Or no…come on Maxwell, how many times has Heero tried to off himself. Even when you first met, boom off the missile launcher into the ocean…but that was part of a mission. That was trying to prevent himself from being discovered, that wasn't because-because, "It doesn't matter. I don't mat…"

"Don't you dare say 'you don't matter,'" Heero warned.

"But…" The American looked at him. His eyes were still watery, and Heero saw the true face for the first time, the face that was usually only visible in snatches behind the joker. The face that was scared and lost, and seemed to not understand why it was still alive, and he kissed that face, because, because he realized, that somewhere deep inside the American boy was probably suffering worse than he was, because he chose to hide it deeper, behind light and good cheer, rather than a mask of nothingness.