by any other name

The boy sitting next to him at the bar had violet eyes.

Were they contacts? Intrigued, Zechs Merquise stole a glance just as the boy turned his head to stare at his empty shot glass. Chestnut hair hung in the boy's eyes, and with an impatient sound, the boy tossed his head back, flipping unruly bangs out of his face. His pale scarred neck was unadorned, set off instead by the ragged collar of his worn black tunic. The boy's hair was nearly as long as Zechs's, bound in a thick braid down his back.

The boy glanced back at Zechs curiously, quick eyes taking his measure. "Yo, stranger. See something you like?"

His voice was rich and low, deeper than Zechs would have expected.

Zechs smiled. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" The boy snorted. "Make up your mind, Blondie. I'm sick of sitting here."

"Then, Bright Eyes," Zechs retorted, rising from his bar stool, "shall we dance?" He offered his hand to the boy.

The boy stared at the hand for a moment, then lifted his gaze to Zechs, his expression clearly indicating his belief that the man he'd just picked up was insane. He hopped off the stool and headed toward the floor. A small, genuine laugh burbled out of Zechs as he followed the boy, only to discover that Bright Eyes was the most amazing amateur dancer he'd ever seen... fast and flexible and so graceful he reminded Zechs of the fighter plane he piloted, the inimitable Tallgeese.

Someone in the gathering crowd tossed the boy glow sticks, and Bright Eyes promptly worked them into his routine. The sticks seemed to leave tracks in the air as they flew through the coruscating light in the boy's efficient hands. The crowd whooped approval, and Bright Eyes laughed.

Then another man pushed his way into the circle. Dark-blonde hair curled on his head like wires. Stocky and solid, Wire Hair's wide-legged stance and sarcastic look indicated a challenge. Barely sparing Bright Eyes a derisive glance, Wire Hair began to move. He was another dancer, but his moves were wilder, more outrageous, and even more exciting to watch.

Bright Eyes laughed again and then he too was moving, only one step behind as he tracked the challenger, perfectly mirroring every move.

By that time they'd nearly attracted half the club. The song, a particularly long techno remix, ended, and the dancers stopped at once. Flushed and sweaty, they gulped the air, staring fiercely at one another. There was respect in the challenger's face, and Bright Eyes was acknowledged with a curt nod before Wire Hair staggered off to the bar.

The circle erupted in cheers, shouts of praise, and invitations for the next song, which had just come on. The boy grinned in acknowledgement, waved at the people, and shouted, "Taken, taken." Then he bellowed, "Blondie! Come get me!"

Zechs, amazed and pleased, recaptured his dance partner. The boy promptly proceeded to do his best to exhaust Zechs, never taking his eyes off the older man. Zechs had to laugh; it would take more than a few dances to wind a soldier of his caliber. A pleased smile rewarded his endurance.

"How old are you?" Zechs asked the boy in the middle of a whirlwind song. He had to shout to be sure the boy could hear him.

"Sixteen," the boy shouted back.

"How'd you get in?"

Bright Eyes was breathless. "That's a trade secret, Blondie!"

Seconds later, a randy song came on and the crowd went batshit. The dance floor became an open-season meat market. Bodies pressed tight all around the pair, and Zechs glanced at the boy. He had absolutely no objection to getting closer to this boy, but…

Bright Eyes took hold of Zechs's wrist, making his decision for him. Firmly, he pulled Zechs off the dance floor.

"Was it something I said?" Zechs asked, bewildered, as the boy dragged him outside and turned to face him.

Bright Eyes tilted his face up, neon lights washing him in blue, not at all daunted by Zechs's height. "I want a room."

Understanding hit like a prizefighter. "Ah." Zechs's smiled echoed the boy's. "Then by all means, follow me."

The cab ride was short and heated. Bright Eyes was on him like Zechs was his hope for salvation. Zechs, lap full of lust-crazed teenage male, barely had the presence of mind to stumble out of the taxi, leaving a fifty-credit note where he'd only meant to leave a five. At this hour, no one was in the lobby or elevator, which was just as well since Bright Eyes showed no signs of caring and truth be told, Zechs was having a hard time caring, too.

Lucky for Bright Eyes that Zechs was an Army man or the boy's sweet ass would have been dropped on the floor as Zechs fumbled for the key to his flat. It was hard enough with the boy's legs wrapped around his waist and slender arms winding about his neck, but Zechs managed it. He kicked the door shut, but locking it would have to wait, Zechs decided dizzily as he stumbled into the bedroom and threw the boy onto his bed. That rich, low laugh curled up against the spartan walls.

The boy's kisses were hard and fierce. Bright Eyes knew what he was doing and knew what he wanted. His mouth tasted like sweet alcohol, every kiss intoxicating. The boy's hands raked through Zechs's long hair as he licked the older man's neck and trailed kisses up to his lips. A sound of strangled pleasure escaped Zechs's throat as Bright Eyes rocked in his lap.

"Enough," Zechs gasped. The boy lifted his head, sensuous lips parted, and stared at him. "More," Zechs clarified, pulling the boy closer. Only thin fabric separated them from frotting against each other.

This close, Zechs could feel Bright Eyes shiver. "Let's do it," Bright Eyes purred.

"Let me take your hair down."

The boy nodded. Zechs reached behind him and undid the rubber band at the end of the braid, then carefully pulled the strands of the braid apart until the boy's hair was completely loose. Evidently used to this sort of curiosity, Bright Eyes settled back so that Zechs could have a better view.

Though this meant they were no longer pressed against one another, Zechs's lust, if anything, increased painfully. Shining brown hair fell in smooth waves over the boy's shoulders and down his back, long bangs framing his young face just so. The way the moonlight hit him in the dark room made him seem to glow from burning eyes to pale scarred skin. Bright Eyes smiled, if that smug, cynical expression could be called a smile, and pulled off his shirt in one fluid motion.

Zechs rested his hands on the boy's bare shoulders. The heat emanating from the boy's skin was palpable, and as Zechs traced practiced fingers down the boy's arms, he could feel goosebumps rising. "Have you done this before, Bright Eyes?" Zechs asked gently.

"Yes."

Zechs paused. He shouldn't have been surprised; the boy's invitation had been so easy. "With how many?"

Bright Eyes shrugged, nailing Zechs with a warning look different from the coy glances he'd shot him all night. "Don't know. It doesn't matter."

"That seems sad for a boy your age." Zechs didn't realize he'd spoken aloud until the boy snorted.

"I'm not so young. Besides, it helps pass the time."

A thought struck Zechs, and words left his mouth. "Do they pay you?" He nearly bit his tongue clamping down on his traitorous lips before they could spill further words that had not been approved by his brain.

The boy's lips quirked briefly in a cold smile. "No, they do not."

"Do you ask them to?" So much for thinking before he spoke. Zechs could have kicked himself.

"No." The boy leaned close to Zechs and murmured, "None of that matters right now, Blondie. Sex first. Socializing later. The truth of the matter is, it's getting cold and I'm pretty fucking hard, so why don't we do something about that?"

"I'd be pleased to be of service. Actually," he said as he pushed the boy down against the bed, "do you have a name?" Long hair spread like silk across the cheap sheets, and for a moment Zechs regretted his thrift. How beautiful Bright Eyes would have looked against the sumptuous bedclothes and luxurious pillows Zechs could have commanded...

For a moment, his lover of the night looked startled at his question, just a flash of surprise in those eyes before he answered. "I'm Duo. Duo Maxwell."

Duo. Well, if there was thing Zechs had learned, it was the importance of a name. Though it wasn't half as descriptive a moniker as Bright Eyes, Duo it was.

"Lovely to meet you, Duo Duo Maxwell. Lift your hips." The boy obeyed at once. No underwear? What a naughty boy. "My name is Zechs Merquise," Zechs murmured, unable to rid himself of the faint, rather predatory smile he knew he wore as he leaned over the boy.

"Just fuck me," Duo sighed, and then Zechs's lips came down hungrily on his, and to both his and Zechs's pleasure, words were no longer necessary.

Duo had looked startled when Zechs asked him to stay after they were done, but he seemed perfectly content now, held loosely in Zechs's lap and looking out of the window through eyes half lidded by dark lashes. The neon lights outside stretched across the small bedroom's floor and flickered over Duo's face as Zechs ran a hand through the boy's long thick hair.

Duo shifted slightly in Zechs's lap, relaxing even further, resting a head against the other man's bare shoulder with a soft sigh.

"Duo, do you go to the club often?" Zechs asked quietly, loathe to break the silence but genuinely curious.

"I guess," the boy admitted. "It doesn't matter. Like I said. It passes the time."

Zechs touched the cool skin of Duo's face and ran his fingers over the high cheekbones, the inviting lips. "Ever seen me before?"

"Once or twice, maybe."

"What did you think?"

Duo shrugged. "You want me to say anything in particular?"

"No. Be honest."

A considering pause. "Weirdo," Duo said, but though the word was accusatory, there was no malice in his tone.

"I'm told that often," answered Zechs, unoffended.

"I thought you were beautiful," said the boy, answering the earlier question. "Many beautiful men out there, but…"

"But?"

"Okay, this is stupid, but I liked your hair." Duo tentatively gathered a hank of white-blonde hair in his hands, twirling it absently around a finger. Zechs could see the boy's reflection in the window glass, and for a moment there was wonder in Duo's face. "Not many men have hair as long as mine. I admire those who do."

There was a long pause. Zechs thought Duo had dropped the subject before he added, almost inaudibly, "I liked your eyes. They were… kind. You seemed decent."

The boy's voice was faintly disbelieving, as though decency were a foreign concept. How little kindness had this strange boy known in his short life? Zechs wondered, making a sound of encouragement.

"Your eyes are a pretty shade of blue, you know that?" Duo said quietly. "Like an ocean. Not that I've seen one. But when I think of one, it's clear, and honest, and clean."

"That's lovely," Zechs whispered, touched. He kissed the boy's forehead. "Duo, thank you."

Duo shrugged in embarrassment.

Zechs tightened his arms around the slight boy, smoothing shaggy bangs out of the bright eyes that had first entranced him. "So why were you there tonight?" he asked.

"Because I felt like it. What is this, Blondie, an interrogation? What do you care?" Duo turned in the circle of Zechs's arms to pin the older man with a demanding look -- not quite a glare, though it came close. Zechs did his honorable best to ignore the jolt of electricity the touch of groin to groin sent through him, for that was clearly not Duo's intention.

"You interest me, Duo. Is that a crime?" Zechs replied. He reached up to touch the boy's face again, keeping one arm around that slender waist. It seemed more intimate somehow to touch Duo's face, despite what they'd finished. "I find you beautiful beyond compare. And all these scars," Zechs said, touching lightly on one that sliced down the boy's neck to cleave his left collarbone in two. "Each tells a story."

"Don't touch me there." Duo shook off Zechs's hand, but not before Zechs felt him shiver. "We fucked, that's it. My life isn't your bedtime story. Blondie." This time the tone was accusatory.

"Did I suggest it was?" Zechs countered. His voice softened. "Hasn't anyone ever asked you before?"

Duo was silent for a long moment after that. Zechs felt Duo's muscles tense as the boy sucked on his lower lip without looking at him. Zechs had begun to fear that the boy was about to get up and leave, presence requested or not, when the boy finally met Zechs's eyes again.

"It's not like there's a lot to tell," Duo said abruptly. "My mom had me when she was fourteen. I never met my dad, but my mom's family kicked her out, so she was stuck with me for company." He snorted. "I guess I should thank her for keeping my sorry ass alive, but I'd hafta find the morgue for that. She died of AIDS when I was six."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Duo said sharply. "I've been there. Sorry ain't worth shit. It won't move your feet. Won't get you food when you're hungry or a blanket when you're cold. Definitely won't get you a place to stay."

"Where do you stay?" Zechs wondered aloud.

"Varies." Duo's tone was becoming distinctly unfriendly. "I get by."

"What about when you're sick?"

"I'm never sick."

Zechs's fascination increased with every word Duo spoke. Zechs could remember, long ago, wandering the streets of a bombed-out city, deaf from the explosions, arm broken from when he'd fallen, running hard as tongues of fire licked at his feet... could remember protesting, 'I'm all right, I'm all right,' seconds before the world turned black.

"Don't you ever wish for anything more?"

There was no answer. This time, Zechs really did bite his tongue, far too late. "Never mind. I apologize. Stupid question."

"I wish instead of pray, every night before I sleep." The boy's voice was tight with emotion. "If only my dad had loved my mom. If only she hadn't been such a stupid fucking whore! If only I didn't take after her, hah, if only I could erase the past six years of my life. Erase myself!"

Narrow hands clenched, and Duo stared at his pale fists as if he didn't recognize them. "I hate living like I do. I hate it! The homeless shelter -- it's -- you don't understand, you can't unless you've been there. It has no dignity." Duo's voice broke on the word.

"I've done bad things." He looked up at Zechs as if he defied the man to speak and contradict him. "Terrible things. And all this? The club, men, drinks and drugs and dances -- fuck, man, I just don't wanna think anymore. I wanna burn out like those wishing stars do.

"I miss things I've never had. I'm so sick and tired of all the bullshit, but that's it. That's all I've got." Duo's eyes shone with anguish, but the boy didn't cry, though Zechs almost wanted to. "Do I fucking wish for something else. The fuck do you think, Zechs Merquise?"

"Duo," Zechs breathed, holding the shaking boy close as he turned his face into Zechs's shoulder again. Zechs let go only for a second to pull the blanket over them both. The tale of a boy who'd lost his world and wandered hopeless ever since; oh, how Zechs knew that story. The astringent scent of burning bodies stung his nose and set his eyes to watering. There were no words. "Duo."

"Guess what?" Duo whispered. Zechs could feel the boy's warm breath against his skin. "You're the only man who's ever asked about me. Who's ever just fucking sat down and listened."

"Listen, Duo…"

"Fucking pathetic."

Zechs pulled back just a little bit and forced the boy to look up. "Stop," he said evenly. "You're human. You suffer and hurt and bleed just like everyone else. You are not the only person who has ever suffered." Images flashed through his mind: a kingdom in flames, a little girl with wheat-blonde hair sprawled and bloody on concrete, a teddy bear covered in flakes of falling snow. "You are not the only person without a home," and Zechs wondered if the boy could hear the waver in his voice.

"Well fuck them." Duo's voice was hard. "Why should I care? God knows they don't give a shit for me. The ones who ever did are dead."

"I'm not."

"Fuck you too. I don't know you." But the despair and anger had drained from Duo's voice, leaving it flat and tired.

"Would you like to?"

Duo raised his head so quickly Zechs heard the boy's neck crack. Violet eyes speared him with a look both sharply suspicious and desperately hopeful. "The fuck you talking about, Blondie?"

"You can stay," Zechs clarified. To his surprise, he could feel himself smile, a small shy smile few people ever saw. "If you so desire."

"Till when?" Duo pressed. But the hope in his eyes outshone the suspicion, raw and bright and searing.

"Until you want to leave."

That hope was something terrible. "Why?"

There was an easy question. "Because I would be honored."

"You are out of your goddamn bugfucking mind," Duo stated, but for the first time that night, Zechs saw him grin, and for the fierce breathtaking beauty of it, Zechs would have promised anything.

"So?" Zechs prompted, an answering grin slipping onto his face despite himself.

"Fuck you, Zechs Merquise," Duo replied fervently. "Hell yeah! Let's ride into the fucking sunset!"

"More like sunrise," Zechs said with a small laugh. Dawn was lighting up the city, and pale rays filtered through the window as Zechs tilted Duo's face towards his for a kiss.