title: Musou-no
part: 1/1 ficlet
date: 2010

author: Thanatos-Aire
contact: .13 (at) gmail .com
archived?: LJ, FFN, GWU

genre: fanfiction Shin Kidou Senki Gundamu Wing
rating: PG13
warnings: suggestion of sex, post EW / Prevs era

cast: 1+2, 3+1, platonic 2+p
notes: Not sure where it came from, and it feels really sloppy to me, especially since I rushed through to post it today. I'm going to try to rewrite it later sometime, but for now, have a short little awkward!Heero-on-Valentine's fic.

trailer: A million things he should've seen, a million reasons why he missed them, and a million moments he won't let pass by again...
disclaimer: I do not own, claim to own, nor make profit off the use of any and all canon or otherwise copyrighted elements borrowed without permission contained herein.

Musou-no
('million' as in innumerable, an indefinitely large amount)

There are a million things I should have noticed.

The way he grinned and joked with me despite my refusal to conversate.

The way he always hung around, and kept touching- hugging, shoulder squeezing, hair ruffling, back slapping, arm punching, belly tickling, knee patting...

The way he never minded that I could not, would not, return the friendliness offered.

Duo forgave me for everything I did wrong.

Why had it taken so long to realize what that meant?

I'd never really thought about it, about our friendship after deciding to be his ally, but... Stupid. Another of the million things I've missed or not understood.

It had taken him actually using the word for me to figure it out. How long has he lived knowing and waiting for me?

I look at this silly little card attached to a box of chocolates by way of a heart sticker. He'd doodled a skull sticking out a tongue into the heart. Usual Maxwell goofiness.

The words were not - I cannot recall a single instance of Duo ever using the word love' before. Even his favourite food or song were only like'.

Happy St. Valentine's Day!
Love ya, DM

It was his usual scrawl, no hint of hesitation or uncertainty in the pen strokes. It had come naturally to him.

And the word, that word, has been in my head all morning now. Une will be upset at my lack of productivity today, but I cannot concentrate on anything other than thinking back.

All those times, all those millions of little clues I should have seen.

He'd broken me out of that Alliance hospital, let me stay with him at Howard's, forgave me for using his parts. He'd been upset at my self-destruction, forgiven me for that too through happiness at finding me alive.

He always urged me to eat, to rest, to take a blanket or jacket. He brushed my hair once, when I was half-conscious in the hospital, and let me stay at his friend Hilde's with him after the first war, moved in with me when I joined Preventers.

Anything I messed up, Duo would joke it off and explain for next time. He helped clean up after I made a mistake. The punch that cracked his lowermost rib was waved off as a casualty of war, however brief that war was.

A million little hints that I was blind to.

He always asked about me, how I was and what I was up to, if I wanted or needed a helping hand. Took the nightmares in stride, eased them even in the early hours when he needed sleep himself. Though Trowa had helped with the nightmares too back when I stayed with him during the war, he never asked how my day went or whatever nonsense unless it was obvious something was wrong and he hung back, watching, until I was forced to ask him for help.

Dammit.

I'm completely useless.

Duo loves me, and it took me two years and a stupid holiday to realise.

Yet, still, there are a million reasons he shouldn't. A million reasons I-

I've never thought about it before. The idea that I was... lovable, it never crossed my mind. The fact that Duo - of all people, Duo, who is social and touchy-feely and open and honest and knows himself inside and out with no regrets - Duo accepts me and my solitary no-contact closed-off half-life, is above all those millions of things that make me a bad friend, an unworthy comrade, a worse lover...

It took me awhile to realise he wanted to be friends, and I accepted that as best as I could, but I know I am a poor friend back. Could I be so selfish, after everything else, to be his lover, if I cannot even be a decent friend?

There are a million reasons I could try. He is in fact a friend, close, only one of a very few. I like him enough I suppose. And in a way, I think maybe I am supposed to try- that I could make up to him by doing so.

If I could make him happy for the future, would it erase the frustrations and sorrows I've caused in the past?

And yet, the million reasons I am a bad friend make a million and a half reasons I would be a bad lover.

But I'd never had a friend before, and Duo pushed and prodded and wriggled his way into my life to be one, opening the door for the others as well. If it had not been for the forced familiarity from Duo, I would never had allowed Trowa to become my second friend.

It's made me a better person- he's made me better for being there. If I tried, if we were to be together more intimately than now, it is probable that this would hasten and intensify my learning.

Round out his teaching me to be human once more.

That alone should have shown, should have signalled, said to me- The others have helped too, in their own ways, but Duo is always forward about it and never backs off like Trowa will if I don't immediately understand.

Mind made up, I take the kitschy gift down to the office he shares with Chang. Duo pecks out words into his computer, but Chang looks up to greet me.

He also has a box of Valentine's chocolates, sitting on the corner of his desk.

I frown.

"Hey, 'Ro. Need somethin'?"

I hold out the card, suddenly unsure of what to say. "Can we talk?"

Chang promptly excuses himself quietly, closing the door behind him, as Duo frowns at me.

"I know you don't like sweets, 'Ro, but it's tradition to give out chocolate," he tries, standing and rounding the desk to sit on the edge, bumping our knees together. "Wouldja've rather I gotcha dying, out-of-season flowers?" he teases.

"I love you too." I say instead. I don't care about that, it's the card I'm here for.

He blinks, then grins and wraps me in a hug. "I'm so glad! 'Ro, I'm so proud of you for saying that!" He's beaming so happily, it makes my chest hurt knowing how long it had taken me to say those words.

Duo pulls back a little, riffling a hand through my hair.

I duck in to initiate a kiss. He had always started contact between us, and I had only rarely even returned it. If I go first this time, I'm certain it will make him just as happy as saying those words.

My lips just barely light upon his when he chokes and pulls back, hands on my shoulders to push back as he slides off his desk.

I stop, waiting, and realise I've messed up again. Maybe he likes being dominant: all the million hugs or backrubs he gave me were because he wanted to, because he started it.

"What- what're you doing, 'Ro?" he manages, brows knitted.

"I'm sorry," I reply quickly, fiddling with the chocolates in my hands as I step back a little. "I won't initiate again."

But he shakes his head, giving me a peculiar look. I don't know what it means.

"Initiate? What? 'Ro... Okay, you're bein' really weird today- Did you just try to kiss me?"

"Yes," I say, in my obvious tone that he hates. He says it makes him feel like I think him stupid, but really it was an inane question.

"But... why?"

Now I'm confused. "I was under the impression that kissing was a show of affection between two people who love each other."

Duo frowns, releasing my shoulders. "On the cheek, man: friends kiss on the cheek." Friends? "Lips are only for sex."

Oh. That makes sense. "I apologise." I lean in to kiss him on the apple of his face, near his ear, as Trowa's sister does when she greets him. I should learn the nuances of kissing soon - Trowa presses his lips to my temple sometimes, so I do not understand what difference there is. Another thing Duo will have to explain to me. "I will be sure to remember that, especially at work. But then, tonight, at home, will you want lip-kisses then?"

Now he moves back again. "'Ro... Were- Oh man. I think there's a mistake here. 'Ro, I don't- I didn't mean..." He sighs and scrubs at his face.

The chocolates in my hands seem to weigh more. Should I have kissed higher up like Trowa does with me?

"'Ro, by kissing me on the lips, are you asking for sex?"

"Isn't that right? You just told me-"

"No, I mean, before. The first time you tried to kiss me, you... Ro, you want to have sex with me?"

I consider it. "My assessment of sex is it's an activity many people who love each other enjoy together; is this incorrect?" But then I remember a million more little things and wonder if I have made a miscalculation: he has never seemed particularly interested in sex in general let alone with me. He rolls his eyes at the scenes during films, only makes short light jokes with the topic, has never directed anything sensual towards me. Trowa sharing a shower or massaging my neck is more overtly seductive than anything Duo has offered me.

Perhaps he simply is a person to whom it is less important than it seems to be to others. I rarely think of it myself. It would not be unsatisfactory if we forewent the experience. I attempt to assure him this is fine, "But I also know that many people who love each other do not engage in it. If you don't wish to, that is acceptable, I only thought because it was traditional..."

He blinks again, looking... bewildered? Duo has a million nuances to his expressions and I have yet to learn them all. I am determined to though, now that I know he cares for me, to show that I care about him back.

"Heero, I think you misunderstood something here. I don't want to... be your boyfriend. It isn't a romantic relationship. Just friends."

"... But, you wrote," I half-raise the card in an attempt.

He shakes his head, looking sad now. Duo reaches out to finger some hair back behind my ear before his hand rests on my shoulder. "I love you, I do- You know I don't lie. If I wrote it, I meant it! But, 'Ro, you're like a brother. I love you, but not that way."

A million instances review through my head. Duo mothering me. Duo joking and teasing in a sibling-rivalry way. Duo mothering me. Duo teaching me in a manner I suppose is traditionally paternal. Duo mothering me.

Not once was anything romantic.

It wasn't romantic - perhaps that's why nothing was ever sensual. He doesn't love-love me, he... friend-loves me.

I feel more foolish than ever.

That's why I hadn't noticed, why I hadn't seen it before: because it wasn't true, real. I hadn't read through those million lines because there was nothing there.

"'Ro? I'm sorry, I don't know if you..."

"I'm sorry for misunderstanding. Thank you for setting me straight." I turn and leave in a quick, forced-march gait. Once outside the door, he calls my name and stumbles after me down the hall, but I ignore it and halfway to my office he gives up chase.

A million reasons say I am a bad friend, a bad brother, a bad comrade, soldier, person. He never should have tried to make me human, to teach me. I can never understand people like he does, to recognise...

I can't believe I'm such an idiot, that I was so stupid. Of course he doesn't feel that way towards me, he's always having to correct my behaviour as if I'm his child. One more thing he's going to shake his head and sigh over...

When I try to lock my office door, I realise I am still holding the chocolates.

"Everything okay?" Trowa asks from his desk, turning off his vidcomm as he disconnects a call. Perhaps it is only my imagination with everything today, but I think it was Duo's face on his screen.

"No," I admit quietly, and dump the card and chocolates into my trashbin.

He stands, frowning, and approaches, but I shake my head and sit pointedly at my desk to do all the paperwork I should have already finished if not for the time wasted thinking about-

Trowa touches my shoulder but asks nothing. After a long moment, I sigh, shaking my head, and offer him a hug. Duo told me that it-

He returns the embrace lightly, brushing my hair at the nape of my neck, then leaves for his desk again.

I turn back to my paperwork, wondering if I can face Duo again now that I've made the biggest mess of our relationship, but Trowa comes back.

He lays a box on my desk at my elbow before going back to his desk once more. I look at it without understanding: an external hard-drive for my laptop.

I turn towards him, and see that he too has a box of chocolates from Duo. I frown.

"For Valentine's," he says evenly, not looking at me.

"What is this Valentine thing?" I ask, thinking perhaps I have misunderstood this as well.

"Just another stupid holiday encouraging people to shop for gifts."

I look at the hard-drive, then the chocolates in my trash. "Shouldn't the present be candy and flowers?"

"Traditionally. But you don't care about that, and we both would rather something more functional." He still hasn't looked up from his computer screen. Trowa has more nuances to his emotions than Duo's, and most are million little details in body language and inflection. I haven't learned them all yet either.

"I didn't get anything for you guys in return."

He pauses slightly, then shrugs, and turns to give me a steady look. "I figured either you wouldn't know or wouldn't care. It's fine- a gift is a gift, not a trade."

"Thank you."

He hums and we go back to work.

After a minute, I pause, looking back to the boxes. I pull Duo's chocolates out of the trashbin and set the gift atop Trowa's.

"I love you," I try.

"I know. I love you too," he replies evenly, not looking up, but for some reason there's a million more butterflies in my stomach hearing him say it than when I had read Duo's same sentiment.

"Duo and I love each other too," I confide in him. He hums again. "But he says it's only friendship. I... didn't give him the chance to explain the difference."

"What difference?"

I study the two boxes. "He told me the difference between cheek-kisses and lip-kisses were friends and sex, but not how I could tell which one was appropriate. I didn't know he was only a friend."

Trowa looks up again to watch me carefully.

"You want to have sex with Maxwell?"

I shrug. "I thought we were supposed to, but he doesn't want that."

"Why would you think so?" It's non-judgemental, only curious and calm and patient. Like always.

"He said he loves me. I didn't know there was a difference, like with the kisses."

"But you understand now?"

I shrug, "In definition, I suppose. But not how to detect which is which without asking the other person." He frowns a little. "I... am uncomfortable with asking him now, though, after misunderstanding so much already. Duo's probably sick of henning over me, of always having to help me-"

Trowa stands abruptly and crosses the office with a determined stride. He moves Duo's chocolates to my inbox almost carelessly, then shoves the hard-drive into my hands. "Happy Valentine's Day," he says, then cups my ears and kisses me firmly on the mouth.

I blink.

A million memories flood my head and I think, I should have seen this before.

But Trowa never cared about the social slip-ups Duo always corrected. And when he was affectionate, it had seemed restrained- I'd thought him uncomfortable, but... Duo had never laid his hand against the small of my back, and everything had been playful or in comfort. Trowa's hands lingered solemnly, almost... in earnest.

There were a million times I should have noticed, including this morning when I was thinking of Duo-

Am I making the same mistake? Is it foolish of me to project-

Trowa's lips on my own tell me no. Lip-kissing is not for just-friends, Duo said, and Duo never lies.

I close my eyes, and let the butterflies flutter a million times before letting him back up.

"Do you understand now?" he asks without breath, watching, his fingers at my throat.

"I think so."

Trowa nods curtly and goes to return to his desk again. I catch his wrist.

"Explain it again?"

He snickers but kisses me again, and I understand a million times over how many million opportunities I've missed and how many more I refuse to let pass.

fini-