Disclaimer: I don't own it. Don't look so surprised.

Warnings: None really. Not even Shounen Ai unless you want it to be. Wufei's POV, and an (failed?) attempt at a slightly different way of writing.

Certain Things

By desoul

July '02

Certain things were impossible to get used to. Such as waking up before dawn to the feeling of someone's arms and legs entwined with yours, hot and flushed in the summer darkness. Certain things, like a waterfall of heavy hair, or slow even breath ghosting against the side of your neck.

Certain things.

Wufei sighed, struggling against his practical side as it urged him to get up. He was damned hot, and this cuddling was not making him any more comfortable. The single fan, shaking slightly in the corner, succeeded only in blowing the hot air around, not in cooling him off, and a trickle of sweat peeked from his loose hair to fall down his cheek at a maddening pace.

He shifted a bit unconsciously, wanting a glass of cold water or ice or anything, but a lean arm tightened its grip on his waist and he found himself trapped. The more emotionally attached half of him decided that he could suffer for a bit longer, especially when his bedmate seemed to be enjoying himself so much.

Duo had been having trouble sleeping for weeks before he'd come to Wufei, evidently afraid of the very real possibility of rejection. It was well known that Wufei enjoyed his space, though the extent at which he did so was quite exaggerated for the public eye. Public, evidently, included Duo, because certainly the everyday Wufei would have slammed the door in his face, not invited him inside.

Certainly, the everyday Wufei would not allow himself to suffer through another minute of suffocating heat and nearness. Certainly not. And most definitely, when the shock of the situation wore away, the everyday Wufei would reassert himself and send the American to fend his dreams off alone. Most definitely.

But certain things were impossible to get used to.

Wufei slid his gaze over to glance at Duo when the other teenager nuzzled a bit closer into his neck. Snuggling was another of those things, he decided. One he wasn't sure he was prepared to grow accustomed to, when he was almost positive that Duo would pull away, as if burnt, if he was to wake up in such a position. He would never let his teasing go as far as this, and in fact he doubted the boy knew he was so intimate at night - Wufei was always far away by the time the other cracked his eyes open, always busy doing something else so he could avoid looking at his nightly visitor.

He hated blushing. In his opinion, it made him look like a fool. The red flush simply looked wrong on certain people, and the everyday Wufei was one of them. So was this newer, unusual and slightly emotional Wufei since, after all, they shared the same face.

With a few last turns, the fan sputtered and died, leaving the humidity of the early morning to set in. The thin sheet had been kicked to the floor some time earlier by a shifting Duo, and Wufei tried to focus on that in an effort to remain positive. Surely, there had to be something good about this situation. Being trapped, nightly, in the same bed with Duo, who was an obsessive snuggler, in the summer, with a broken fan, ten pounds of hair between the two of them and a constant slide of sweat down his left cheek could not be completely negative. Not even when he suddenly needed to use the bathroom. No, Wufei decided, there had to be something good in all of this. Somewhere.

He stayed in bed for as long as he could before carefully removing Duo's vice-like grip from his body, padding silently from the room to the bathroom, then to the kitchen, and then to the suffocating fan in the corner, attempting to revive it without making too much noise. The fan had just begun to whirl again when a soft sound from the bed bought Wufei's attention, taking it away from the sputtering of the machinery.

Duo. Was sprawled on his bed. Arms and legs and hair askew, and leaving no room for the official occupant of the room to lay down again. Suddenly all Wufei could think was 'Goddamn'.

There had to be something good about all this. There had to be something keeping him from waking Duo up and tossing him out. Wufei wished desperately for the discovery of that 'something', and his failure to do so was wearing his already worn patience quite thin.

He decided on a new tactic. Dissecting the situation carefully, he ruled out piece after piece. He hated summer. He hated the fan. He hated sweating, and his hair got on his nerves. He was not particularly fond of sharing his personal space, so this elusive 'good thing' could not be snuggling. All of this meant only one thing.

He must be forgetting something. It really was too hot to think.

Duo was shifting again, curling up, and Wufei recognized the signs of an impending nightmare immediately. Sometime, he decided, he was going to force Duo to tell him exactly what these nightmares were about. It was unfair of Duo to expect him to be so inconvenienced without knowing anything at all. Besides, he found he truly cared to know, somewhere, deep outside the reach of that everyday Wufei.

That Wufei who found himself left outside the room every night, while another, more sympathetic Chinese teen followed Duo in.

Something was definitely wrong with both of them, Wufei declared silently as he moved closer to the bed. Sliding behind the boy who had already started to shiver despite the heat, he wrapped his arms around him and murmured meaningless words like he supposed he was expected to. And it was strange, but after a week of this, it was slowly getting easier. Duo relaxed after only a moment or so, and reclaimed his stifling hold on Wufei, head falling into the exact same position, warm breath puffing on his neck. The fan sputtered, paused, but then continued, and only minutes later, Wufei felt sweat emerge from his dark hairline. It was all he could do not to sigh.

Certain things really were impossible to get used to.