Snowdragonct: Thank you for reviewing as always, I really appreciate it :) I'm glad you liked the previous chapter and the friendship the boys share. The FWB-goodies don't start this chapter yet, but they are in the near future :P
Ryoko Lamperouge: Thank you for reviewing :) I had planned for Duo's 'convincing' to take a while but I didn't want to slow down the story, as you will see, but I hope you will find this update a fun read :)
Frayedsoul: The FWB-deliciousness is not here quite yet, but it will start soon :P This chapter has a lot more hints regarding what Hilde did to Duo and what Relena did to Heero. What it was exactly, is not yet revealed, but you will know more next chapter :P Thank you so much for reviewing again :)
CircleKV12: Haha, a lot of questions! I hope you will keep reading to have them answered :) Alcohol does play a role in the process, as you will read in this chapter, but only to help Duo be more open-minded to an epiphany next chapter. I hope you won't be too disappointed :S Thanks a million for reviewing again :)
Emilinia-sama: Well, at the moment it is still supposed to, because that is all (they think) it is :P Thanks for reviewing, I hope you will enjoy this update :)
LovelyRose5001: I'm very glad you liked it, thank you for letting me know :) I hope will like this chapter as well :)
Hope: That is great to hear, thank you! :)
Yellepeddy: Haha, I'm just going to come clean and admit that I just deleted an essay-length reply to your comment, pointing out how, in my opinion, they are not misogynistic. 'in my opinion' being the keywords :P Obviously everyone is going to take different things away from a story and for you to see misogyny means there has to be something in the story to make your thoughts go there, so I can't argue with that :) Let me just summarize by saying: after rereading the chapter upon receiving your review, I did see your point, however, I also felt that coming to the conclusion that "it is coming off severely misogynistic" does imply a focus on the overall, extremely condensed plot summary ('Heero and Duo don't want to date girls so they turn to each other') that is ambiguous and not representative. It neglects the details that - again: in my opinion - make it clear that the boys are not misogynists.
I definitely see where you are coming from, rereading certain passages, but rereading other passages made me think that you might have skimmed past these or for whatever reason didn't have them register, because when I view the chapter/story as a whole, misogynistic (especially "severely misogynistic") is hard for me to reconcile. But I can't stress enough that this is my opinion and your is apparently different and I respect that. I just felt like maybe it would be of help to you if I explained my view. There I go again with a long reply, I just can't seem to help myself! :P
I hope you will feel differently about the misogynistic quality of the story as it progresses, at this point we are only three chapters in after all :) I hope something in my reply has not offended you, when I ramble I can sometimes come off as insensitive :S I really want to thank you for your review and I do not mean this sarcastically. In any case it is always good to give the story and the characters extra thought and I hope you will not be discouraged to keep telling me your opinion of the story. I apologize that this comment ended up being so long again -.-
CaramelAriana: I'm very glad to hear you are still enjoying the story! Thanks a million for your help again and for reviewing :)
defy-law: Thank you! Since then a fellow author has offered to beta my chapters for me, so I hope you can fully enjoy the story now :) Thank you for taking the time to review twice :)
Through the Trapped Door: That's good to hear :) Thank you for reviewing, I hope you will enjoy this update :)
Seph Lorraine: Wow, thank you, what an awesome compliment. I hope you will continue to enjoy the story :)
Jisa: Thank you so much for your super kind review! I'm so happy to read you are enjoying it. I understand a work in progress might be difficult to get into, but I work hard on updating as often as I can and hope to be able to significantly pick up the pace this summer :) I've found that universities across the world are quite different, but I based most of it on my own university as it is easier and more realistic to write from what you know. The dorm buildings are probably what is most different? My university actually doesn't have those either, there were plans, but due to the recession they were cancelled, still it's a non-existant university so I figured: what the hell, I should just do what fits the story best and write it different from most (all) American universities because I have zero experience with those :P Thanks again for reviewing, I hope you will like this update and my other stories :)
Muchacha: Haha, agreed. :P Thanks, I hope you will like this new chapter :)
Author's note:
Not as fast as I had anticipated. Something got in the way (something always gets in the way -.-). But it is finally here! I really hope you will enjoy this update. Let me know :)
Beta: CaramelAriana. Can't say thanks often enough :)
Thousand Words
Chapter Four
Two weeks into our agreement I could tell I had Heero on the edge, about to jump off and agree to go troll clubs with me. It was a carefully balanced program of becoming increasingly chagrin and annoying and having him catch me doing something utterly inappropriate basically every morning when he would return from his run. I mean, I didn't allow him to see anything of course, but I damn well made sure he would know exactly what he had just 'accidentally' walked in on. At first it was all just to get him to agree with my logic, as I loved it, almost sinfully, when I could get the stubborn guy to agree with me on anything; it was a challenge I gladly accepted. After a while, if anything, it was just hilarious. Three-quarters of the time I wasn't even actually doing anything, just pumping my fist up and down under the sheets and making exaggerated noises. Once he had left, quickly, after the usual: "Good God Duo!", I was free to laugh my ass off.
The key to the success of this strategy was that whereas I am completely, inexplicably shameless, any sort of sexual reference made Heero very uncomfortable. Needless to say, catching me masturbating - or 'masturbating' - with increasing frequency caused him serious anxiety. I would almost feel sorry for the guy. Almost, if he didn't look so funny with his eyes wide and horrified much like the expression he sported when we went to see that movie where aliens burst out of people's chests in gruesome detail. Like clockwork, what always followed, was a comment that, in some way or another, subconsciously involved religion in the matter: "Good God, Duo!", "Jesus, Duo!", "Mother of God, Duo!" and "Holy shit, Duo!"
He cracked me up.
This morning, however, I had overslept and I had no time for the embarrassing ritual, so I was half dressed when there was a cautious knock on the door.
"Duo?" Heero's voice sounded muffled through the closed door.
"Yeah?"
"Is your hand anywhere near your dick?" was the dry question.
I laughed, pulling my shirt over my head and reached out to pull the door open, making him jump. I gestured down at my fully clothed body. "Satisfied?"
"Yes. For once I am, instead of you." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him, already toeing off his running shoes.
I looked at my watch as I put it on, only now noticing he had been gone longer than usual. I casually asked him about his run.
"I did a double round," he answered, pulling his shirt over his head and then peeling the skin tight, black shorts off his legs. "To be honest, I was hoping I'd miss you. Or at least: that I'd miss the morning showing of 'Duo Maxwell and the Art of Masturbation'."
"What is that supposed to mean?" I inquired innocently, grinning behind his back.
Heero wrapped a towel around his waist and grabbed his shampoo and soap. When he turned back to face me, he rolled his eyes at me. "Please, you've been jerking off so much lately it's like you've been trying to rub off your fingerprints."
I could only laugh in response to that.
"No wonder you've been so cranky lately. Must be exhausting, playing with yourself all the time."
"Actually, it is the one thing that makes me feel invigorated," I bantered.
Heero started out the door. "I'm going to take a shower."
"You should try it sometime!" I called after him as he walked down the hallway. Coming from one of the other dorm rooms I heard a groggy voice yell: "Shut up, Duo!"
I closed the door behind me and headed over to the main building, passing by the coffee shop for my morning shot of energy. Strangely though, I'd been so focused on pestering Heero in the early morning and finding so much gratification in it, that I didn't have nearly as much trouble waking up lately. With time to spare I casually walked over to my classroom, one hand in my pocket, the other wrapped around the warmth of my cardboard coffee cup, the largest size they had. First class of the day: math. I truly detested the subject, but with Heero's help at least I could face these classes with confidence. He had even helped me get ahead of the schedule, giving me some freedom to focus more on my other courses, as normally, trying to figure out the mathematical aspect of the craft took up most of my time and energy.
"Good morning Mister Maxwell," the teacher greeted me from behind his desk as I walked in what I thought was an otherwise empty classroom.
"Good morning," I returned politely, inwardly smiling at the grey-haired man, dressed in tweed from head to toe. He had a picture of Einstein on his desk, one of the lesser intelligent student(s) had once commented: "Why are you sticking your tongue out in that picture?" That was a hoot. Sadly, the guy failed. No surprises there.
Walking further into the classroomto my assigned desk all the way in the back, I grumbled when I noticed the desks in front of my own were taken by their usual occupants: that psycho bitch and one of her minions.
She must have noticed my dismay, because she glared at me and snarled: "Good morning, Duo."
I smiled at her sweetly and commented in return: "Morning, Relena. Is that a new straightjacket?"
Evidently she suddenly felt very uncomfortable in her obviously new, white, leather jacket but she maintained her glare.
I placed my heavy bag on the desk and sat down with a sigh.
Relena leaned in close to her friend and furiously started whispering.
I cast my gaze up to the ceiling and let out another, frustrated sigh.
The classroom started to fill and when it was time the teacher closed the door and started his monotonous explanation of the material of the new chapter, accompanied by illegible writing on the black board and diagrams that didn't make much sense with their crooked lines and indecipherable notes. Luckily, Heero's explanations were always crystal clear to me, basically rendering the old teacher obsolete. So I wasn't really paying attention, attempting to do a calculation from the next chapter, which Heero hadn't discussed with me yet, just to see what kind of problems I ran into and what questions I would need to ask him to make sense of this.
I wasn't the only one whose mind drifted back to Heero. In front of me, I kept hearing his name, as the girls actually just started whispering louder so they could hear each other over the lecture.
"Oh, I know, he is so, so cute," the girl next to Relena agreed with her. But then she pouted and pointed out: "He's kind of short though. Sad."
"Well, that is why I figured Heero and I are perfect for each other, because I am short too. I mean, how much more obvious could it be that we are meant to be?"
Even her friend frowned at her delusion.
That psycho bitch just couldn't let him go. I really didn't understand why she held on to her misguided fantasies. Heero wasn't more rude or curt to her than to others, but he never gave her a positive reaction that would justify her obsession with him. Everyone just chalked it up to love; it makes you do crazy things and it doesn't just go away just because it's unrequited. But I doubted if it was really love.
If she truly loved him, would she not be able to recognize that what she did to him was wrong and prohibited any possibility of a romantic relationship? If she loved him, wouldn't she respect him enough to leave him alone when that is what he, so obviously, wanted from her? Honestly, I had long figured that Relena just couldn't stand it that there was a guy that didn't desire her. She was undoubtedly the most popular girl of the university, practically everyone was her 'friend' and she was undeniably attractive, even I could see that, you know, underneath the thick layer of psycho bitch. She wasn't even all that bad; I probably wouldn't have had any qualms with her if she hadn't pulled that stunt on Heero in our Freshman year. Clearly she was smart as well, she was at the top of our class, living up to her full ride scholarship. For all intents and purposes, she could be considered a 'catch', she clearly thought as much. It probably just bugged the shit out of her that Heero didn't see her that way, never did, not even before the infamous psycho-bitch-fiasco.
"I don't think he is good enough for you though," the girl started quietly, looking back at the teacher to make sure he hadn't caught onto their conversation.
He hadn't, busily drawing what looked like a horse, though I was pretty certain it wasn't intended to actually be a horse.
"What makes you say that?" Relena scoffed.
The girl looked uncomfortable, but then confided: "I've heard from a lot of other girls that if you ever... have an itch..." she scrunched up her face and then continued more quietly: "he'd be happy to scratch it."
"Who told you this?"
"Carly... And Megan... And Nenna..." The girl looked guilty and uncomfortable.
"Why didn't anyone ever tell me? I..." she squirmed and then admitted: "have an itch."
"Please," I grumbled under my breath, "he wouldn't scratch you with a ten foot pole."
Relena, having overhead my comment, turned in her seat and settled her glare back on me.
Like I would be impressed, let alone intimidated. I was on the receiving end of Heero's glare at least twice a day and even though that was much more intense, the novelty of that had also long worn off.
"Only because you keep riling him up. Heero has nothing against me, it is you who is making a big deal and interfering," Relena hissed.
"Well, that's what I do; I interfere: I drive friends to hospitals when some bitch has gone all psycho on them," I snapped back at her viciously. I still got angry whenever I remembered that night. "I'd demand you wear a muzzle if I wasn't so convinced Heero is now appropriately aware that he needs to be careful around you."
"Mister Maxwell, could you please return your attention to the front of the class rather than flirting with pretty girls."
The entire class softly chuckled, every single one of them fully aware that I loathed Relena, though most of them unclear as to why.
Relena turned back in her seat and addressed the teacher in grossly sweet tone: "Mister Thomas, Duo is being really disruptive, it is really hard for me to focus on your teachings with him constantly trying to engage me in conversation."
"You heard the lady, Mister Maxwell, be quiet from now on."
I wasn't even going to defend myself, actually just relieved that Relena would be forced to remain quiet the duration of the class because the teacher would frequently be looking our way to check on me.
Lunch time always came as a welcome break to me. I got sandwiches just off campus because they had the best and there wasn't the afternoon rush hour of hungry and bored students, and then hurried to meet Heero in our private study room in the library, casually bribing the librarian on the way. This had been our routine for as long as we had been genuine friends, which wasn't exactly ever since we met. Heero and I really needed to warm up to each other; this warming-up took the better part of our Freshman year and only really took off after the psycho-bitch-incident, so in a strange way, I owed Relena.
Caught up in those musings I strolled through the library and knocked on the door before entering the study room. I did that ever since I discovered Heero occasionally did the nasty in there. I presumed that after this period of near-religious masturbating, Heero would also pick up the habit of knocking before joining me any sort of private space.
"Wassup?"
He shrugged, not knowing what the appropriate response would be.
"Chicken, beef or vegetarian?" I held up the sandwiches.
"I'll go for vegetarian, because I'm positive you won't be eating that one yourself."
I threw him the sandwich and winked: "You got that right." I saved the beef for later in the day; I had a long day of classes ahead of me, followed immediately by basketball practice. I sat down and dug into the chicken sandwich. When I took a bite that was too large for me to handle I started coughing and gratefully accepted the bottle of water Heero handed me.
"It helps if you don't try to inhale your food."
"Thanks for the valuable insight, I don't know how I managed without it," I retorted dryly.
We both quietly worked our way through our lunch, sharing Heero's large bottle of water. When I was done I propped my feet up on the table and looked at him mischievously.
He tried to ignore me but not before long his curiosity got the better of him and he wondered with an irritated tone: "What?"
"Carly, Megan and Nenna?"
He coughed and covered his mouth to prevent him from spitting his large gulp of water all over his papers.
"I mean, Carly and Nenna I get, those are nice girls, but Megan is just... evil."
"I actually thought she was kind of nice. She is funny."
"Right, I forgot I was talking to Mister Biting-Sarcasm himself."
"I slept with Carly and Nenna, but not with Megan, she came by with those intentions, but we ended up just talking. She's alright. How do you know about them anyway?" he wondered.
"One of Relena's friends was telling her about it in class and I overheard."
This seemed to bother him slightly, he had probably hoped the sexual activities would never be discussed, after all, as far as he was concerned, that was part of the deal. He never mentioned specific girls, or any other sort of details, to me.
Responding to his inner trouble, that showed in uncomfortable body language, I responded: "You know how girls are, they talk. In fact, it's how guys are too. I thought you were fine with the whole set-up."
"I was, I mean, I am, it's just a little weird to know that they are talking about it."
"Well, girls still come to you, right? So I'm guessing the word of mouth is all good," I joked, though recognizing there was probably a truth to that. I could only hope my sexual partners spoke of me kindly as well. There was no way of knowing, any guy would prefer to think of himself as an Olympic gold medalist should 'shagging' ever become an Olympic sport, but truth be told there was always the daunting possibility that we would not even make it through the initial qualifications. I had heard of women faking 'it' so often - it was integrated in many entertainment media as a common punch line - and so expertly, that I really didn't want to stop and wonder whether any of the 'positive feedback' was real.
Keeping with the program to convince Heero to come club and bar-hopping with me, I said morosely: "But can we not talk about sex, makes me horny."
"Yes, please," he adamantly agreed.
"There are some upsides to celibacy though. My right hand palm has never been softer." It was hard to keep a straight face.
Heero looked up from his papers to firmly glare at me. "I thought you didn't want to talk about it."
"I talked to Nash and there is this really great club up in Jameston; it's only twenty minutes away by train."
"It's been only two weeks," he dutifully reminded me.
"Yeah, exactly! I'm not going to last another two weeks! Seriously, my dick is already a little sore."
Heero just snorted.
"Please?" I continued with my most pitiful voice. "It would be so much fun. The architect and the engineer, out on the town, on the prowl." I smirked at him when he looked up with a quirked eyebrow.
"Duo, I'm far too busy with this project, besides, what the hell am I supposed to do once you've 'made a kill'? Stand by and hold your drink?"
"I won't take some girl to a back alley or something. We would just go out, have fun and see if we can get some phone numbers of girls who are willing to just hook-up some time. I could teach you my famous dance moves?"
He rolled his eyes. "If I must, I'd rather learn them directly from the source, your mentor, you know? Though I don't necessarily know where to find an epileptic Gibbon monkey on short notice..."
"Ha. Ha. I might die of laughter."
He flashed me a self-satisfied smirk.
"Speaking of I might die," I started as I decided to go for a more guilt-tripping approach to convincing him, "don't you think it's time you paid me back for saving your life?"
He looked at me challengingly, not at all impressed by the sudden change in tactics. "First of all, I paid you back plenty, because you used the same excuse to get me to pull that prank on Obie in sophomore year and to pee in that public fountain and to help you with math and even that one time to get me to give you the last bite of my chocolate candy bar."
"Well, I was so hungry I thought I was going die! It was your turn to save me."
He ignored me and continued: "Secondly, I was never in any mortal danger."
I quirked an eyebrow at him and spoke mysteriously: "We'll never know though, will we? Because I got you to the hospital so fast."
He groaned and tried to focus on his schoolwork. Heero always worked through his lunch breaks. The only time he truly wasn't studying was when he was asleep or when he had a swim meet.
Grumbling, I was not about to give up. "Come one Heero, I already asked Martin to fill in for me at the on campus bar this Friday."
He let out a long and exaggerated sigh. "Fine."
I hadn't even paid attention to what he said, so I just continued to beg: "Don't be such a partypoop Heero, please just- wait," Heero was looking at me funny and somewhere in the back of my head it registered that he had said "fine". My lips formed a happy smirk. "For real?"
"Yes, but only because you would never stop bugging me about it if I kept saying no."
"You got that right."
"But I don't ever want to fucking see you masturbating again," he warned me with an accusing finger pointed my way.
I smiled sheepishly. "I promise. Man, this is going to be fantastic!"
"Then why do I already regret it?" he mumbled under his breath.
"Just so you know, I'm going to consider this a binding verbal contract." I caught a glimpse of my watch and jumped up. "Shit man, I got to hurry." I walked past him and with my right hand I ruffled his hair, because I knew how much he hated that. "Love you man, you're the best!"
"That hand with which you just touched me had better been cleaned since you last used it!" he called after me.
With no time left for additional banter I jogged across campus to make it in time for my next class: art history. Apparently they deemed it important for future architects to be aware of the styles of the past. The teacher always argued: if a client ever asks you for a Rococo inspired feel, you better damn well know what the fuck Rococo is. I never much minded the class, the teacher had a foul mouth and that always made for fun lectures, especially when he couldn't figure out the power point again. The only downside of the class was that it was one of the classes I shared with Hilde, worse still was that we were forced to sit next to each other. The class was seated in alphabetical order and because it was such a small class, of only fourteen students, there was no one whose last name started with N, O, P, Q or R.
When I walked through the door most of my classmates were already present, including her. With heavy feet I walked up to my seat, purposefully ignoring her as I always did.
After letting out a sigh she commented: "Duo, we are going to be sitting next to each other for the rest of the year. You can't keep ignoring me all this time."
To prove my point that I most certainly could, I didn't respond. The only indication that I had even heard her was the way in which my tendons stood out as my muscles tensed up with anger.
"How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?"
It took all self-control I had not to shout at her that no amount of apologies - especially empty ones, as hers had become - could right the wrong she had done.
Thankfully, she didn't say anything for the duration of the class.
I dutifully went to all my classes of the day, relieved that the worst one was over with and then made my way to the gym to hurriedly get changed in the spare sweatpants and T-shirt that I kept in my locker.
We started practicing free-throws. I got increasingly more arrogant and insufferable as I was the only one to nail every single shot. After the free-throws, coach Harford divided us up in two teams and made us compete against each other, in the meantime supplying us with constructive criticism like: "You suck, Banes!" and "My grandmother could outrun you, captain!"
Yeah, he was just a ball of joy wrapped in helpfulness.
At least I could take pride in the fact that my half of the team never lost its winning position, always a few points ahead. Of course that made the other team a little more competitive, translating into more fouls and body contact. Coach Harford was abusing his whistle and screaming at them: "If you did that in a real match it would be free-throws galore for the opposite team!"
After a five minute break where we all lay on the floor of the gym, panting and holding our hands over our hearts, the teams were mixed up and we got sent back to the court for a rematch. When the coach whistled to indicate the end of practice, the score was tied.
"Alright, well, that wasn't all bad, I suppose," he commented as we dragged our feet back to the locker-room for a cold shower and to get dressed.
Quickly revitalized by the cold water, it was only a matter of time before the first banter started to echo off the tiled walls.
"Hey Fischer, did the water shrink your junk or are you always that small?"
"Bend over and take it like champ!"
When I took my hair down for a quick rinse, turning my back towards the others, I heard sharp catcalls and: "Turn around pretty lady!"
I dealt with it the only way I knew how. I turned around and jested: "If you want it, jump up on it!"
"Duo, quit swinging your dick at us," Obie deadpanned.
We all laughed and returned to the task of cleaning ourselves and then drying ourselves, before the tournament of wet towel slapping would commence.
When I was fully dressed and my hair tied in a ponytail to give it more time to air dry, I walked over to the indoor pool to see if Heero's swim practice had already come to an end. As soon as I opened the door, the smell of chlorine and the sound of splashing and echoed shouts hit me. Six male students stood by the water line, hugging themselves as the drying water on their skin made them cold. The coach was at the opposite end of the pool, walking along with two swimmers dueling it out in the water, basically just spurring them both on with a mantra of: "Come on! Come on!"
Noticing that two familiar faces were missing from the line up by the pool, I knew who were fighting it off in the water. I walked to the side and seated myself halfway up the bleachers, overlooking the large pool. From high up I could tell it was a close race, neither one of them seemed to have a clear advantage. When the blurred figures reached one end of the pool they rolled in the water and used their legs to push off the wall, their bodies gliding through the clear water smoothly before their resumed their powerful strokes. The coach directed two students to wait for them at the finish line to decide on the winner as the swimmers started on the home stretch.
The speed never failed to amaze me. I knew I was, in comparison, quite the buffoon in the water. Heero moved smoothly through the water, almost effortlessly, his lacking height appeared to be no disadvantage, not even against his super tall opponent.
Both students raised their hands at the same time as the swimmers touched the wall, ending their race.
A tie. I knew that would bug the shit out of Heero.
Heero and his opponent easily climbed up on the edge of the pool, catching their breath and removing their caps and goggles. They both seemed somewhat disappointed when they were informed it was a tie, but congratulated each other nevertheless. They were sort of friends, after all, even though they were always trying to beat each other.
I walked down the bleachers as they got up on their feet. Heero spotted me and offered me an exhausted smile.
"Hey," he breathed as I approached him, running his hand through his wet hair, shaking out some of the droplets.
I was grateful the basketball uniforms were more forgiving than the skintight swimwear, even though I acknowledged Heero and his friend had nothing to be self-conscious about, both being graced with the typical 'swimmer's build': lean and defined - but not bulky - musculature. Not to say I was a couch potato, but for some reason I would feel more self-conscious about those tight shorts. Swim jammers, they are called, Heero had informed me once. To me they just looked like the tight spandex shorts Heero often wore when he went out running. Of course Heero didn't let unnecessary inhibitions get in the way of hydrodynamics, nor aerodynamics.
The navy blue swimwear was skintight and rode low on the hips and reached down to just above the knee. The design was plain, no patterns or striping, like I had seen other teams wear, just the university swim team logo in white on the outer thigh.
"Hey, beat your own record yet?" I asked, blinking my eyes a couple of times when I realized I had been staring.
"Not yet, but I'm getting close."
Last year at a swim meet Heero set a near legendary time, breaking all previous records of the university. Ever since then, he and the tall guy have been working hard to try and break it.
"You remember Trowa, right?" Heero gestured to the tree of a man next to him.
"Of course!" I politely shook hands with him. I hardly ever saw Trowa, he took classes at a different facility across town, but he was a difficult guy to forget. He was the guy to drive me and Heero to the hospital that night, being the only one willing to sacrifice his car. On top of that, the man was tall as a skyscraper, which was quite memorable. Having Heero standing at his side was almost comical. Heero wasn't abnormally short - especially for an Asian guy - but it sure looked that way when he stood side by side with Trowa. "How's it going?"
"Good. Getting ready for the competition two weeks from now."
"You're going up against the swim team from the University of Pittsburgh, right?" I remembered Heero mentioning it.
"Yeah. They don't stand a chance, we slayed them last time," Trowa boasted.
"So, will you guys be shaving your legs again?" I teased.
"Don't mind him," Heero said to Trowa, "he is fascinated by the leg-shaving." Turning back to me he asked: "Do you mind waiting by the exit while we get changed?"
"No, I'd like to watch," I deadpanned, but already started towards the main exit.
I waited just outside, seated on a low concrete barrier that lined the steps. It was still quite a warm night, even though Fall was creeping into the atmosphere. Fifteen minutes of daydreaming later, Heero and Trowa emerged, completely dressed but their short hair still damp. We said goodbye to Trowa as he headed towards the parking lot to drive back to his small apartment downtown, closer to his facility. Heero and I slowly walked back to our dorm building, not having much to say so just enjoying the quiet and the crunching of our footfalls on the gravel and crushed seashell path.
"You're not going to back out of this Friday, right?" I started.
"No, don't worry. Besides, maybe you'll end up being right, it might be fun."
"Hell yeah! And the drinks are on me!"
He gave me a look. "I don't drink," he reminded me.
I blew some bangs out of my face with an exaggerated sigh. "Fine, fine, I'll get you a Shirley Temple." I laughed, even as I nearly fell on my ass when Heero roughly pushed me. On a different note, I commented sincerely: "We should hang out with Trowa more often, he's a cool guy."
"He is," Heero agreed, "but he is busy. Besides, any spare time that he has he prefers to spend with his boyfriend."
I nearly tripped on my own feet at that surprising tidbit of information. "Hold on, he's gay?"
"Yeah," was Heero's matter-of-fact response.
"Wow... I never knew. Never would have guessed."
"He doesn't really go around announcing it, but he is cool with it. Does it bother you?"
I shrugged, but paused and decided to give it some honest thought. I came to the conclusion that matched my initial instinct: "No. You?" It seemed like a legitimate question, not only because he had asked me, but also - if not: more importantly - because they shared a locker room twice a week like I did with the basketball team; a lot of nudity and no privacy.
"A little at first," he admitted. "But not anymore."
"Well, he could still hang out with us and with his boyfriend. We could double-date, everyone already calls you my girlfriend anyway," I joked, wincing when Heero punched my shoulder and didn't hold his strength back as much as he should - probably on purpose.
We reached our dorm building and dropped the topic as we walked inside, greeting the group of guys at the large dining table, eating pizzas and drinking beer, their usual diet. We were both offered to join them and considering our stomachs were growling and we didn't want to waste time defrosting and preparing our own meal, we gratefully joined them, picking slices of different pizzas. Luckily, they weren't drunk, so they weren't being assholes like they had before. The conversation was lighthearted and fun, occasionally making me laugh. Heero seemed more guarded, but was friendly and cooperative. No one got rubbed the wrong way to incite an argument.
Heero was one of the first to excuse himself after dinner, always having more studying to do. I stayed downstairs a little while longer, enjoying the jokes that were being passed around, being particularly interested in the bashing of coach Harford, as many of the guys at the table were part of the university's basketball team. We thoroughly discussed his lack of talent and leadership, shamelessly making fun of him. One of them even suggested losing games on purpose, just to piss him off.
While I did not agree with that approach, his comment highlighted the fundamental problem with coach Harford: we all hated him so much, we weren't motivated to win any games for him. Some of us, apparently, were even willing to sabotage the entire team just because he was such an asshole.
With that new insight, I went upstairs as well, eager to rest the weight of my body on the mattress.
I opened the door and found Heero sitting behind the desk, pouring over intricate looking schematics. The reflection of the single light visible in his dull, tired eyes.
"Hey, don't you think you've done enough for today?" I asked softly as it appeared he was half asleep in his chair.
He only groaned in response and moved his hands to rub his eyes.
"Come on..." I pulled his chair away from the desk and while he sat back, slumped like a bag of potatoes, I neatly gathered all his papers and slipped them into the folder from which thy had come. With a frown I caught a glimpse of a few drawings buried underneath the technical diagrams. They were obviously the designs he had been working on for his current course, but with an inward wince I noted how crude they were, certainly not a reflection of his talent in other fields. They wouldn't fail him on the basis of the drawings, but he wasn't going to get the A+ he had grown so used to these past years.
"I know, they suck," he grumbled, making a weak attempt to take the papers from me to stop me from looking at them.
I held them out of his reach. He was too tired to get out of his chair and reach for them. "I'm not going to lie, they need some work," I commented, being careful with my phrasing. "The basic idea is good," I noted honestly, "but..." I didn't really know how to break the news to him that apparently he wasn't good at everything. It would likely come as an unwelcome shock to him.
But my lack of words and his own concerns were enough to alert him. He groaned and leaned forward, resting his forehead on the surface of the desk.
I slid them into the folder and put the folder in his desk drawer. "Heero, why didn't you just ask for help? Jesus, dude, you've spent hours every week helping me with my mathematical courses for the past three years. Did you really think I wouldn't return the favor?"
He looked up at me quizzically.
Bemused, I shook my head. "I can help you draw up designs," I explained to my exhausted friend. "You can explain your design ideas to me and together we can refine them and draw some kick-ass art to go with the basic schematics."
"Won't that be cheating?"
"Why? Don't real world engineers ever call on the help of designers and artists? Doesn't mean they aren't good at their job. Come on, let me help you."
"Thanks," he simply sad. His ego was obviously a little dented, having to rely on anyone's help, but I was certain he figured the same thing I did, that it was better to get a good grade with a little help than to receive a meager grade for his own, unassisted efforts. There was nothing wrong with asking for help; I had long succumbed to that notion and didn't feel any less about myself for needing it.
With that settled we both got ready for bed. I was actually excited at the opportunity to repay Heero for everything he had done for me. I wouldn't be graduating at the end of the year if it wasn't for his help. I did have to admit that feelings of guilt started to emerge, knowing that by pestering him into accompanying me to a club, I would be pulling him away from his work. But I felt confident that with my help he could spare a few hours, maybe we could even make going out a weekly thing.
Two days later it was Friday and I was looking forward to the evening. Mostly, I realized, because I just wanted to hang out with my friend, not necessarily on the look out for ladies. With Heero so busy, we hardly did stuff together. I supposed that, in this final year, I was more motivated to leave a lasting impression on him, make a mark on our friendship, make it unforgettable. That was so silly and overemotional, but regardless, it was the truth.
We shared an early dinner - Heero's turn to cook - and after our meal he went upstairs to get a little bit of studying done and I jumped into the shower, taking my time with my hair that oftentimes got neglected during the quick showers after practice. On my way back to our room, with just a towel around my waist, I stopped by Nash's room to verify the address of the club he had recommended. He assured me that we just had to follow the main street after getting off the train; a short, three minute walk. With a wink he wished me good luck but then ruined the brotherly moment we were sharing by mentioning that there was a gay club right around the corner and Heero and I might be more comfortable blending into that crowd.
Most guys I knew drew up their eyebrows at my friendship with Heero. But I didn't see anything weird about it. Granted, I didn't have any reference for comparison because I never had a friend like Heero or a brother, but it felt right, so how could it be wrong? I figured they were just being jackasses and that the unoriginal gay-joke was the best they could come up with.
I got dressed in my favorite pair of black jeans and a black, silk shirt, one of the few nice articles of clothing I owned. Everything else - all the cheap cotton and washed out denim - a 'fuck you' to the old man. I sat down on Heero's bed to put on my shoes and then rolled up my sleeves because it made the shirt a little less formal-looking. Then I had to pry Heero away from his laptop and get him to get dressed.
I lay down on his bed, even as he reminded me how much he disliked that. "Yeah yeah, rainstorms and pineapples, I know. Just get over yourself." I buried my face in the pillow and commented with a scrunched up face: "Wow, and you say I stink."
He threw a shirt at me that didn't make the cut as he tried to decide on what to wear. "I don't stink." It almost sounded like a question, like my comment had caused him doubt.
He didn't stink. He smelled fresh and citrus-y. I didn't tell him though, the thought of it alone made me feel awkward.
"What is a wingman even supposed to wear?" he wondered, shoulders-deep into his half of the closet.
"As long as you don't look better than me," I shot back jokingly, turning around to lie on my back.
"Oh, ouch, I'm not sure how to achieve that."
I reached out my hand and gave the closet door a rough push, so it swung around and hit his shoulder.
He retreated his head out of the closet to scowl at me.
I didn't interfere as he got dressed, suddenly feeling a little uncomfortable in a single shirt that likely cost more than his entire wardrobe. I hoped it wouldn't make him feel self-conscious.
It didn't take him long to get dressed. He selected a pair of dark, fitting jeans and a faded, long sleeved, blue/grey shirt with three buttons at the top, which I had him all undo to 'woo the ladies' as I put it.
When he stepped into his only pair of shoes - other than his running shoes - namely his beat up sneakers, I knew I soon would have to find a way to convince him to let me buy him a new pair.
With our coats draped over our shoulders because outside the air had yet to be cooled by the lack of sunlight, we walked over to the subway and got on the train that went directly to the train station across town. We made it just in time to catch our train.
"This seems like as good a place as any." I promptly sat down in one of two seats away from most of the other passengers.
Heero sat down next to me on the narrow, cramped bench.
During the twenty minute ride we talked mostly about school, settling on some quick brainstorming for Heero's project. We hadn't had much time to work on it yet, but it really drew me in and I found it very interesting. The objective was for him to invent a plausible, futuristic aerospace machine, do research on existing and developing technology, draw technical schematics - or blueprints - of the design and add a few drawings offering a more visual, artistic dimension to the finished design.
His idea was to make war machines of the future, to replace tanks as well as fighter jets. He talked enthusiastically of what he called "Gundams", which he couldn't describe more aptly than "big, humanoid robots" and he figured that there would be different kinds, for different purposes. His focus was on a particular design - a specific "Gundam" - that could transform from its humanoid form into something more aerodynamic. This was the design he had chosen to elaborate on for his final project. Even though his creative aesthetic vision and his verbalization of it was limited, I was instantly inspired and we shot ideas back and forth, making the twenty minutes pass quickly.
Too quickly, I realized, when I was somewhat disappointed when the announcer notified that the next stop would be Jameston.
We got off and followed Nash's directions. As promised, we quickly found ourselves standing in front of the entry of a booming club, the music that poured through the walls reverberated in our chests.
Heero seemed hesitant, but I pulled him inside. We checked our coats and then headed into the main area, a large space with high ceilings and mesh walkways, suspended lights created an interesting show of colors and rhythmic flashes. In the back was the long, stretching bar that was completely painted white and glowed with a purple, bluish hue under the black lights. The entire space was filled with people dressed scantily, jumping and grinding to the beat of the overpowering music.
I dragged Heero through the crowd of people to get us a drink first.
"Hi, can I get a beer and a water?" I had to practically scream my order at the bartender. I ordered a beer because I didn't want to get too drunk and force Heero to carry me home by the end of the night. The water was for Heero of course;it made the bartender frown, but he complied anyway and soon our drinks appeared on the bar before us.
"Cheers!" I knocked my bottle of beer against his glass of water.
The second bottle of beer soon followed. I was a little nervous and unsure of how to proceed. The answer literally came to me when an attractive young woman seated herself on the empty stool next to me, with slow, seductive movements and confidently said: "You can buy me a drink if you want." She crossed her legs and made her foot touch the back of my leg. Her gaze was focused intently on me, it was a bit unnerving, but nice at the same time in a shiver-down-my-spine kind of way.
"Sure, what would you like?"
"How about we both take a shot of tequila, that way, whatever happens, we'll sure have fun tonight."
'Wowza', that was about as eloquent as my thought process was at that moment. "Bartender, two shots of tequila please."
The shot glasses were promptly placed in front of us.
We simultaneously downed our drinks in a single gulp and when I looked at her again she had a sensual smile on her face. "Are you here alone?"
"Uh... no, no! I'm here with my friend, Heero." I turned around to gesture at Heero, who was sitting on a stool on the other side of me, looking characteristically disinterested.
He raised his hand in a halfhearted wave, the best she was going to get from him.
"Hi! Wow, you guys are really cute. How come I've never seen you guys here before?"
"We're not really from around here, we live on campus at the university."
She purred in delight. "Cute and smart?"
"How about you?"
"How about me, what?"
I inwardly grimaced, it was kind of hard to have a conversation with such loud music. "Do you study or do you work?"
"Work!" she answered curtly, she clearly hadn't come over for a meaningful conversation and I realized I shouldn't pursue that either. "Do you want to dance?"
I looked back at Heero apologetically, feeling incredibly guilty now for dragging him along as I was about to ditch him by the bar.
'Go' he mouthed. He was probably just eager for me to get my rocks off and get a couple of phone numbers so he wouldn't ever have to go out with me again.
'Sorry' I mouthed back and then the woman insistently tugged at my arm, beckoning me to join her on the dance floor. Only then did it occur to me I didn't even know her name. So whilst dancing - doing nothing that even resembled Heero's imitations of my dance moves... I hoped - I introduced myself and asked for her name, just trying to be polite and ease the uncomfortable feeling in my gut that what I was aiming for was morally wrong.
"Ayana," she said, like it was the sexiest word in the world.
We continued to dance to the upbeat song that was remixed by the DJ, but whereas she offered me her full attention, I could not return the same focus, distracted by the alien feeling of having this young woman grind her hips against mine even though a few minutes earlier, she hadn't even bothered with an introduction. Maybe Heero was right - he certainly always turned out to be right about everything else. Maybe, at the heart of my problems, was the fact that I am a bit of a romantic myself, looking for that one person that is going to make me feel loved and make me open myself up to new, wonderful feelings. Even with her rocking her hips almost sinfully and licking her lips and flipping her hair whenever I dared to look up at her predatory face, I couldn't help but be disappointed at the lack of feeling that was evoked in me. Really, the only feeling that was stirred awake was centered in my pants. Other than that, I just felt deflated and surprisingly eager to remove myself from the situation.
I had not expected that, after all, she was offering me exactly what I had come looking for.
As it turned out, I was in no shape or form the stud that I always presumed myself to be.
Another point for Heero. I'd lost track of the score long ago.
I inconspicuously tried to look around myself, trying to see through the crowd and spot my friend. Instead, I found a different familiar face, a very unwelcome sight. I instantly froze and became completely detached from the situation I was in.
"Do you know her?" Ayana questioned impatiently as she caught me staring at this girl across the room.
"I thought I did," I muttered in response and my stomach twisted when she started towards me, trailed by that psycho bitch. "Hilde, what the fuck are you doing here?" I demanded to know as soon as she was in earshot.
"What are you doing here?" she shot back and then gave Ayana a foul look. "Duo, what are you doing? Are you seriously just going to troll clubs and bars now, for sex? Why can't you just give 'us' another try? We had it good! Now you are punishing me for a single mistake by sleeping around?"
Ayana made a face as she realized what kind of situation she had found herself in. She excused herself and was then quick to leave us be.
I let out a bitter chuckle. "You know, some murderers have only made one mistake - one kill - should they not suffer the consequences just because it was a one-time-thing?"
"I didn't kill anybody, Duo," she argued.
"Well, all things considered, it comes pretty close to murder if you ask me! You are just like Relena," I gestured at the girl to her right, with her hand on her hip, looking all high and mighty. "You are both psychotic bitches! Just because in the end, nothing went catastrophically wrong, you think it's okay? You think we should just forgive you?" So caught up my emotions as all memories and feelings rushed back to me, I continued to scream at her: "Hilde, I almost quit my education for you! I almost got disowned for you! I lost one of my best friends because of you!"
I gasped when I suddenly felt a soothing hand on my shoulder and Heero's voice calling my name over the loud music, urging me to calm down. I came to my senses and when I blinked the red blur out of my eyes my heart sank at Hilde's devastated face and the trails of tears running down her cheeks.
"I didn't want any of that!" she sobbed and then she pivoted on her heels and stormed out, followed by Relena who gave me one last foul look.
"Are you okay?" Heero asked, when I didn't speak or move for a long time.
"I need a drink," I said hoarsely and determinedly walked back to the bar. Unbelievable, I thought as I demandingly ordered a strong drink; she was the one to screw me over, yet I ended up feeling guilty. Of course it didn't help that before we started dating, we had just been good friends, and as her former friend, I couldn't help but sympathize with her. At the same time, as her ex-boyfriend who suffered her lies and deceit and all the consequences, I was bitter, angry and hateful and feeling like I had every right to be.
It wasn't long before I ordered my second, then my third, then my fourth strong drink, drinking like it was water and I had just crawled out of the desert.
I was thankful Heero allowed me to get stinking drunk, an overt look of empathy on his features as he watched me down drink after drink, occasionally ordering a water for himself. Eventually he informed me that we would have to go if we wanted to make the last train back. Before helping me outside, he fished my wallet out of my pocket - causing me some very unmanly giggles - and paid our tab.
The entire trip home was a meaningless blur, though I did distinctly notice that my knees started to hurt really badly at one point, apparently after I had stumbled out of Heero's grip and fell to the pavement at the train station.
Back at the dorm building, the stairs were challenging but strong arms around me guided and supported me.
I started to feel very lonely. Feeling incredibly sorry for myself that I had never experienced the love of my father nor my mother, and had never known the joy of being in love. Was it so hard to find that person that made you feel safe and warm and loved? How could that be so hard, shouldn't every single individual innately be capable of this, as a human being?
I heavily leaned back against the door that was closed behind me.
"Oh, god, no way I'm going to get you in that top bunk," a nice voice said.
I felt a presence close in on me, warm and soothing. Hands suddenly gripped my sides as I momentarily lost my equilibrium.
"Can I trust you to remain standing?" that smooth voice coming from the darkness asked.
"Hmmm..." any attempt at a coherent response was futile.
The hands moved to the top button of my shirt. From there on nimble fingers popped one button at a time and I felt warm breath against my chest as it was exposed. At the urging of the hands I leaned slightly forward and a silky fabric was slipped off my shoulders. I leaned back against the door with a pleasant sigh.
"Put your hand on my shoulder."
I obediently did what the voice said.
Then, the presence kneeled in front of me and the warm hands returned, one gripped the back of my calf and lifted my leg and the other took off my shoes and socks. The process was repeated for the other foot. When the presence rose, I kept my hand on the shoulder, stroking my thumb back and forth to feel warm skin underneath thin, soft fabric. Slightly strengthening my grip, I pulled the body closer and sighed again when I felt legs against my own and a splayed hand against my chest that stubbornly kept our upper bodies separated.
"What are you doing?" The voice sounded both amused and mildly concerned.
I leaned forward instinctively, but to my dismay I was met with nothing. The hand and the legs disappeared, I lost my grip on the shoulder.
"Come on, Casanova, lets get you in bed before you molest me."
I was pretty sure my actual name was not Casanova. But not entirely.
Then all of a sudden I was laying down in a bed, my head comfortably supported on a pillow that smelled of citrus and... something else, something nice.
There was nothing between that realization and the blistering headache to which I awoke.
Beta: CaramelAriana