As You Are
By Merith

Pairings: 2x4x2
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, Shonen Ai, yaoi, language, angst, hints of NCS
Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, its characters or its story line. But I do enjoy writing about them!
A/N: Inspired by two separate conversations, this story became a challenge of sorts. Could I as an author, write a believable story with a pairing I didn't believe would work? Thanks to Mereilla and Saro for all their help, and CYT for letting me bounce a couple ideas off her.

To: Arithion, who believes, and to Saro, who could believe.

~

Come
As you are
As you were
As I want you to be
As a friend
As a friend
As a known memory
'Come as You Are' - Nirvana

~

Part III: As I want you to be

When Victor stood and announced he was headed for dinner and then to his girlfriend's, I looked around in surprise. He paused long enough to invite Duo to eat with him, saying I seemed to be taking too long with my studying. Duo waved him off with a laugh and once the door closed, he drifted my way.

"Not that I want to bother you, but how much longer?" he asked sitting on my bed, tilting his head to the side.

I made a show of pretense and flipped through a couple of pages. "Not much. About three or four more pages." I glanced quickly at him, still a little unnerved at the strength of my memories. "Are you sure you want to stick around here waiting for me?"

He nodded his face solemn. "Yeah, Quat, I want to wait here... unless you don't want me to?"

Flinching internally at the forlorn sound of his tone, I shook my head. "It's okay, really. But you might..." I hesitated. "You should go eat. The dining hall might close before I'm finished."

"Nah, I'm not really hungry." His face brightened, and he asked suddenly, "How about I run over, get us both something and bring it back here?" Seeing my hesitation, he rushed on, "You need to eat too." His expression softened. "It'd be sort of like how we used to do."

It didn't seem right that he could still get me to agree to something I wouldn't normally with just a look. At my nod, he nearly flew from the room, slamming the door behind him. Wincing, I remembered that too had been commonplace. I knew my irritation was false; Duo's actions simply replicated how he'd always been, and that made me happy for the first time since he'd walked through the door.

My reaction bothered me. Duo had acted as he always had. Had I?

The question demanded an answer, and I drifted away from my desk, from the last few pages of the text. I stood before the single shelf of books over my bed and took down the photo. My vision faded. Victor's wind up alarm clock ticked loud, echoing the blood thrumming in my ears; the grayness coalesced and dissipated. I'd remembered when the picture had been taken. Bittersweet, now, it'd been the first time I'd told him I loved him. It wasn't either of our expressions I was interested in, it was Duo's clothing. I'd made him change for the party.

Clipped audio-memories swirled and I dropped the photo. Closing my eyes, I fought a sudden painful grip clutching my stomach. The sound bytes were all in my voice. Nearly all said the same thing. There hadn't been a week that I hadn't made some comment, given a look, offered suggestions, and even bought clothing for Duo. I'd been changing his outward appearance with every action, reaction and word. I hadn't accepted him how he was.

I'd spent the past two hours dredging up Duo's abhorrent behavior leading to our break up. But as for my own, I'd turned a blind eye. Dropping to sit on the mattress, I began to scrutinize my own conduct.

Duo's very manner and way of being drew me to him from the start. I couldn't help watching him in class, in the dorms, at the cafeteria. It'd been his smile, the one that hinted at a joke in the making. It'd been the swish of his braid as he walked. It'd been the sound of his voice arguing some irrelevant point or raised in humorous wit at some hapless target. It'd been the open and easy way about him I fell in love with. All of it, I'd tried to change.

First it had been the way he dressed. From the beginning, I'd thought he had a limited number of clothes, and said nothing. Duo'd been very forthcoming in telling me he'd been an orphan, attending the university on a full scholarship. During a trip to the mall, I discovered he liked, and purposely bought, all black, mostly loose shirts and tight jeans. I cajoled him into trying alternate colors, and told him he looked great in purple.

And then it'd been table manners. We'd been at lunch with a few people I knew slightly from my father's connections; we knew the same people and ran in the same circles. Duo being Duo, talked around the food in his mouth, reached across the table, used his hand instead of a napkin, and hadn't realized he'd been doing it. I wanted these people enthralled with him, to know that I didn't need to have my companion chosen for me. And I wanted them to see how beautiful, charming and sophisticated he was. Instead, I fussed, handing him a napkin, apologized for his rudeness, and hissed in whisper to keep his mouth closed while eating. I'd been too embarrassed to see he'd been upset as he stood abruptly to leave and announced with a laugh he'd be returning to steerage.

Thinking of it now, I cringed at how insensitive I'd been. And recalled that I'd been surprised when one of my guest stated how witty Duo was and another believed him above charming. I had been the one to sacrifice him for mere acquaintances.

From the moment of our first meeting, Duo's language had bothered me. Rarely exposed to course or crude talk, I often found myself in a constant state of embarrassment; nearly every sentence Duo uttered held a curse or sexual innuendo. Over the months of asking, pleading, and giving discouraging looks, his vocabulary changed. By the time we'd split up, Duo would only swear when provoked. Though the suggestive language never stopped. There'd been some things I could live with.

I wasn't sure how long I'd sat there, but the shuffling in the hall brought me out of the daze I'd sunk into. Hurriedly I shoved the picture back where it belonged and headed for the door to lend a hand. Duo cradled bottles of water with an arm tight against his body, and food bags in each hand. Rescuing a bag and the water, I led the way to my desk.

Duo had brought back one of my favorites, a chicken sandwich and tossed salad. We fell into an old routine, as though the past few weeks hadn't happened, perched on my bed with his back braced against the wall, me at the desk and both of us talking about classes, other students, faculty and assignments. I picked at my sandwich, uneasy and no longer hungry. I noticed Duo's appetite hadn't been affected, his was nearly gone when he scooted forward.

"Not hungry?" He indicated my untouched salad and barely nibbled on sandwich.

Shaking my head, I offered it to him. "Not really. You can have it."

He grinned, picking up the sandwich. "So what's with these?" He held my gaze for a moment longer before shifting to one of my textbooks on the desk. "Physics? Since when do business majors need physics?" I could tell he was making conversation more than from interest.

"It sounded interesting, challenging." I shrugged. His grin was fleeting, ghosting over his face even as it died. "I had given some thought to changing my major." I added, wishing I could say something, anything to bring back those happy looks he used to give.

Duo grunted softly, and took a bite of the sandwich. He picked up my book and began to leave through its pages. "Why physics?" he asked, after swallowing.

"Why not? The natural sciences are always a good study." He sniffed and flipped a page. "How much do I owe you?" I reached for my wallet.

"Don't worry about it," he responded absently. My sandwich had disappeared. "I've plenty of money now to buy you dinner every once in awhile." He flicked a glance my way and grinned easily despite the edge in his voice.

I watched him scan the text, uncertain. A couple of months ago, he wouldn't have said that line without overriding anger. What had seemed like a good deed, a gesture of friendship and more, had blown up in my face. Even now I found my cheeks burning with shame.


"Quatre!" Duo's shout could be heard from the stairwell down the hall. I'd jumped from my seat and was half way across the floor when he threw the door open. "Quatre!" he yelled again, slamming the rebounding door shut behind him.

"Duo?" My eyes went from the papers he held to his face. "Duo, what is it?"

Without saying anything further, his expression livid, his eyes nearly black, he shoved one of the fisted papers into my hand. I'd taken the paper automatically, without looking at it.

"Wha...?" I gaped at him.

Interrupting abruptly, he demanded, "Do you know what that is?"

Reading the first couple of sentences, I began to smile. "Congratulations, Duo! You did it! You got the grant!" I stepped forward to hug him only to falter when he moved out of the way.

"I didn't!" His shout rebounded off the walls. "I always knew you were a spoiled fucking rich kid, but never thought you'd do something like this!"

I jerked back away from him. "But... the letter..." I ventured. Then it hit me what else he'd said. "What?" I demanded shrilly, shocked by his words.

He shoved the other letter in my face. "This one I got yesterday telling me I didn't qualify. Today I got that one telling me I did." He glared at me, his breath coming in raging gasps. "So you tell me Mister Winner, how is it that the fifth place participant wins a grant that should be given to the top three?" his voice rose to a shout.

A knock on the door with a hesitant, "Quatre?" saved me from answering.

Without breaking his glare at me, Duo yelled over his shoulder, "Get the fuck away from the door!"

"Quatre? You all right?" the voice asked more insistent.

"It's okay Paul. I'm fine." I called out, returning Duo's glare.

"Answer the fucking question!" Duo ground out the words, clipping each off as it left his mouth, "Did. You. Have. Anything. To. Do. With. This?"

Knowing my anger would be useless in the force of his, I let it go for the moment. "I knew you wanted the grant. I helped you fill out the forms," I hedged, not sure why he was so upset.

"Cut the bullshit Quatre! Just answer the fucking question! Did you have anything to do with this?" He shook the other letter in his hand between us.

"I-" hesitating for a moment only, Duo turned from me cursing. "Duo, wait!" I called out.

Spinning around, his hand snatched the letter from mine and crumpled both into a ball. "This is a worthless piece of shit!" He flung it at me, hitting me in the chest. "I am this close to hitting something," he growled in my face. "And right now, I don't fucking care what - or who." I stepped back, for the first time feeling a little more than nervous. His eyes jumped and snapped at my movement. "Fuck!" he shouted again. "You have no fucking clue, do you?" he demanded from me. I flinched and shook my head slowly. "Why the hell did you think I'd want this? Want you to fucking fix everything for me?" He began pacing the room. "Can you even tell me that?"

"Winner EIC sponsors several grants and scholarships every year. I simply mentioned to dad how..." I faltered. Duo had stopped to stare at me, his eyes grew wide and his chest expanded as he continued to suck in air. "I thought it's what you wanted, Duo." I ended quietly.

"Not fucking like that!" He whirled and punched the wall next to the door. I jumped and found I'd backed into my desk.

Running feet sounded in the hall and the door opened. "Everything okay?" Paul stood looking between the two of us.

Duo glared and stepped forward. "I fucking told you to get away from the door. Now leave!"

Paul drew back and frowned. "Chill the fuck down, Duo." His glance shot over to me. "Quatre?" His eyes offered more than a mere word.

I shook my head. "Everything's fine, Paul. Duo and I are having an argument."

His eyes flicked between Duo, the wall, and me. Duo's fist indented and left a wide crack on the wall. "You sure?"

Resisting the urge to sigh, I nodded. "I'm sure."

He paused for a moment, frowning at Duo. "I'll be next door. Just holler if you need anything."

Duo growled his hands fisted at his sides. "What's that supposed to mean, asshole?"

Paul started to answer. "Duo!" I spoke sharply, drawing both of their attention. "Your anger is with me." Duo blew out an explosion of air before turning away to face the wall. "Please leave us, Paul." Duo snorted derisively. Paul nodded and, shooting one last glance at Duo's back, he left.

Squaring my shoulders and pulling myself up straight, I faced him, ready for whatever he had to throw my way. "Now Duo, you're going to have to explain to me why you're so upset. I was only trying to help you."

Duo braced himself against the wall, his back shuddered as he drew breath. "Is it always going to be like this, Quatre? Will you continue to interfere in my life?" his voice deceptively quiet.

"I wouldn't call it interference, Duo. I did what I thought you wanted."

He shook his head, and I watch as his braid slipped from his shoulder to swing loosely. "You don't understand, do you? How could you... you've been given everything, have everything." He exhaled loudly. "I guess I can't expect it." His voice sounded defeated, flat suddenly.

"Duo," I approached him, my hand reaching for him.

He swung away wildly, out of my range. "No! Don't touch me... not now." His face haggard, his eyes red-rimmed and over-bright. "What about the others? The other participants... the ones who really qualified? Did someone lose their grant?"

I shook my head mutely. His shoulders sagged. "Dad increased the number of grants this year to five." I stated quietly. "Duo," I began, trying to understand the reason for his anger. "You wanted the grant. You deserve the grant - your grades, your willingness to work in your chosen field reflect that, and you certainly met the application criteria. I don't understand."

Duo clenched his jaw. "I don't want your charity."

Frowning, my brows drew together in puzzlement. "It isn't charity. It's like your scholarship..."

"It's nothing like it!" he hissed, anger building again. "I worked fucking hard for that scholarship! Christ, Quatre! Do you even know what it takes to get one? Do you have any idea?" I had to shake my head. He stared at me for a moment. "I can't do this. I can't ..." He ran a hand through his bangs and ducked his head. "I've got to get out of here."

As he headed for the door, I called out, "Duo, please..."

He stopped. His hand on the knob, he said without turning around, "I need some time, Quatre. I just ... time. Just give me some time." And he left.

The soft snick of the door closing, the abrupt silence was incongruous with the shouts just moments ago. The inane thought that I'd have to inform dad that Duo most likely wouldn't be taking the summer internship ran through my mind as I picked up his letters and smoothed them out on my desk.


It'd taken him nearly a week to calm down enough to talk to me. A few more days had passed before he would answer my questions on why he believed the scholarship different from the grant. And then I felt as though he was reciting someone else's life, as though he hadn't been part of it. In a detached, uninterested voice, he told me what he had to do to earn the scholarship. How he had to work, doing his time by volunteering, playing the junior political circuit, writing his congressman, doing a lot of extra curricular activities... all while working a part time job, helping out at the boy's home, and maintaining a four point oh GPA.

When he spoke of never having anything of his own, how everything he had had been seconds, castoffs, or from some generous benefactor to the home, the hurt I'd caused him palatable between us. In earning his scholarship and going to the university, Duo'd begun to find a sense of self-worth, begun to take ownership of his life. To go from having nothing to earning everything for himself had given him what he needed to excel. I got the impression he felt my tampering had somehow emasculated him.

"Earth to Quatre... you in there?" Duo waved his hand in front of my face.

Blinking, I tried to get my bearings. Remnants of the memory still fresh I ached for what I'd done. In consternation, I focused on Duo. "What did I do? Duo, how..." His fingers touched my lips, closing my mouth.

"Not now," he told me softly. In his eyes I saw a certain tenderness, a knowledge that hadn't been there before. His fingers ghosted over my cheek, like he used to when he'd cup my jaw line. He stopped, and started to move his hand away. Catching it, I held it to my face for a moment.

"There's so much I want to say." He only nodded, and slipped his hand out of mine.

Sitting back, he gestured to the text still open on my desk. "I think you have a few more pages to get through first."

I barely spared the book a glance. "But I thought you wanted to talk."

He nodded. "I do, after you finish. I want to talk without distractions, without you needing to finish something." He smiled warmly. "I'll just grab that book and wait. Okay?"

"Okay, I guess." I felt lost, disconnected from him, from myself. His hand squeezed my shoulder and I looked at it, tracked it back to his face as he hooked a strand of hair behind an ear.

Duo raised his brows, a grin playing about his lips. "Study. Notes." He tapped the book with his other hand, and I nodded dumbly, reaching for my discarded pen.

To concentrate on reading was impossible, let alone to take notes. I let my gaze wander out the window, vaguely aware of Duo's movements as he selected a book, laid down on my bed, and began to read. The sounds of other students crossing the quad drifted through the open window. Discussions of a party were held on the sidewalk below; their talk consisted of drinking and who would be there.

A sudden thought formed, and I frowned. "Duo," I turned in my seat. "Is what Miller said last week true?"

He squinted up at me, puzzled. "What part? The drinking or getting laid?"

I had dismissed the other portion of Miller's harassment. "The drinking."

"Both are true," he supplied, amused at my flushing. A moment passed before he told me quietly, "Trowa told me you'd called him. Told me what he'd told you to do." He made a face, his lips curled wryly. "Threatened to kick my ass if I ever did anything like that again. He even threatened to turn Heero loose on me." I laughed.

"They're..." I paused. Duo knew I'd had problems accepting them, his friends, unconditionally as he had. "They're good people. Good friends."

Flashing me a quick grin, he joked, "Tell that to Heero's probation officer. I'm sure he could use a good laugh."

"He's still on probation? I thought he only had it until the end of March..."

Duo was shaking his head. "Nah, asshole got into another fight. Though it wasn't his fault this time, and the judge was willing to dismiss it, but some law they have in California says he had to have something happen. So they tacked another six months on." His expression turned thoughtful. "And here I thought the hate laws overrode all other considerations. Fuckin' politics anyway."

I chuckled. "Aren't you planning to go into politics?" He kicked me playfully with a bare foot. "How's Trowa? He find something?"

Brightening, Duo smiled happily. "Oh man, you're not going to believe this. He's got a contract. Nothing big, but he's going to be recording! Some Indy label guy heard him open for a local band at a concert a couple weeks ago and signed him. He'll be able to play his own stuff, and a bunch of remixes." Duo's eyes were shining.

"That's great!" When they had stopped on their way through, Trowa had played and sang, his talent obvious.

"Hey!" Duo cried in mock exasperation. "You're supposed to be studying, not gabbing. Get back to work." He winked, smiling. "We'll catch up later. Just get done, okay?"

I turned back to my book and pretended to read. I knew Duo watched me, watched to see that I had gone back to studying. Letting part of my mind work on copying the words from the book to my notes, I gave thought to another area of our relationship that I had been sorely lacking. Heero and Trowa had been, and still were, Duo's closest friends. I'd acted as though they were a threat.

My intention hadn't been to start that way. I really had wanted to be open minded, but the more Duo talked of them, telling me stories from his childhood, the more I didn't want them in his life. They both had been extreme discipline problems. And at twenty-one, Heero continued to be.

Heero was Duo's oldest friend, more of a brother to him than most real brothers. The two had met in the boy's home, Heero nearly three years older. After Duo had suffered his third fight in two days, the Heero announced his protection, and thereafter even the teenagers backed off. At eight, with his unusual looks, long hair and brash manner, Duo had became a prime target for bullies and other predators. Though only ten, Heero's friendship had kept him safe.

Duo had laughingly told of Heero's attempts to teach him to fight, and how the two were in constant trouble, because of the skill. After Trowa's arrival, when Heero's attention had been diverted, Duo had begun stealing, vandalizing the school and causing mischief throughout the neighborhood. His stories of juvenile detention centers and crisis counseling left me reeling. Where he had thought them humorous, I thought them shocking.

The way he told the stories would haunt me for days afterwards. The vague pains and disquiet feeling I'd get when he spoke of his friends left me troubled. His eyes would light up and his voice would change to an almost caressing timbre. For the first time in my life, I believed I hated someone without even knowing him.

It'd been around Halloween when Duo announced Trowa and Heero's intention to head out to California. He'd been excited for his friends; the move was to give them a new start, and away from a seemingly inescapable past. Not sure of when the move was to take place, they said they'd route their trip through the university if they could. I met the news feeling more than a little trepidation.


The knock wasn't unusual. Most of the time it'd be a resident hunting supplies, or another student. That it was late evening on a Friday made it uncommon. From the floor where he sprawled, Duo'd yelled out for the door to open, and one of the dorm leaders walked in.

He appeared troubled. "Duo, Miller said you'd be here. There are a couple of guys downstairs. They say they know you."

We looked at each other before Duo asked, "Did they give you names?"

The guy looked embarrassed. "No, but one of the guys is tall, thin about my age. The other is shorter, Asian, looks mean..."

Duo'd jumped up, tossing his book aside. "Heero!" he shouted, and raced past the floor leader.

I rose and followed slowly. All that time I'd half hoped that they wouldn't have been able to work a visit in their trip. From the stairs, I watched Duo hug another man. The vague pains solidified into a sharp, bitter one and I halted on the steps. Though I knew these two men had known Duo, had hugged and touched him many times, it still hurt to see him with someone else.

Just as I had been about to turn, the man looked up. His expression frightening for a moment and then as if he realized he glared, his face slid into a neutral mask. Only his eyes spoke of the same hatred I felt for him.

Duo'd pulled away and looked around. Spotting me on the steps, he waved me over, smiling. "Come on, Quatre. You've got to meet these guys." He turned to the taller of the two, and I knew I continued to be watched. The shorter man, the darker, Asian one, stared as I approached his gaze level his eyes intense. I couldn't look away. I was drawn to those damning blue eyes.

A hand grabbed my arm. "This is Trowa, Trowa Barton. And this guy is Heero Yuy. Guys, this is the one I was telling you about, Quatre." Duo grinned and pulled me forward.

The tall one I liked immediately, and wondered at my hesitancy in their visit. Trowa radiated warmth and calmness. He swept his hair from his face, and shook my hand with a half smile. "Duo's told us a lot about you. It's good to see you aren't an imaginary playmate."

Duo choked. "Trowa!"

My smile faltered. I wasn't certain what to make of him. Shaking his hand firmly, I responded, "And he's said a lot about the two of you as well." I flicked a glance at the other man before adding, "Though I don't see the capes and costumes."

Trowa's laugh was as easy and warm as he appeared. Heero had turned away with a snort.

"What's this, Duo?" a rough voice asked. "Sean Hayes know you raided his closet?" I looked over in time to see Heero plucking at Duo's shirt.

Pulling out of the hand's grip, Duo ducked his head, a red flush rose from his neck.

I looked to see what shirt Duo wore; the light lavender polo I'd picked out for him a couple of weeks prior. "I gave it to him. He looks good in it."

Heero sneered at me and snorted. "It figures."

Trowa stepped forward, his hand touching my shoulder in a comforting touch. "Is there someplace would can go, someplace a little..." he gestured around, "...less public?"

Without taking my eyes from those piercing blue ones, I nodded. "We can go to my room. Victor will be gone the weekend, and wouldn't mind."

"Great," Trowa smiled and picked up a beat-up backpack.

As I turned to lead the way, I saw Duo jerk and his eyes widen when Heero leaned closer. Though he whispered, I knew he'd meant for me to hear. "Wonder bread dress you often?"


Since they had nowhere else to go, Duo's friends camped out in my rooms. It went without saying Duo's dorm was out of the question. Not only would his roommate object, but he was also perverse enough to cause trouble. And though Heero rarely spoke after the initial introduction, his animosity hadn't abated.

Duo pleaded for them to stay Saturday and leave early Sunday.

I'd left for most of the morning telling Duo it'd give him time to catch up with his friends. He'd agreed reluctantly and seemed hurt. Leaving the two in my room, I'd pulled Duo with me down the resident stairs and into the relative privacy of the rec room. My only intent had been to hug him without feeling that pair of eyes tracking my every move. But seeing how troubled his expression had been, I kissed him. Reassurance of my feelings for him, reassurance for myself, had turned quickly into desperate need. An amused cough from the doorway had separated us and we both grinned sheepishly at one of the residents.

By the time I'd returned after lunch, it had been with some surprise to learn Duo had talked them into playing basketball. Trowa'd stage whispered how Duo'd been bragging my game all morning, and now was my chance to prove him not a liar. I'd not known how to take that statement and settled for changing my clothes without comment.

The two on two games played hadn't been remarkable; they'd only been games. I found myself paired first with Duo and then Trowa, always opposite Heero. Of the five games played, my team had won three. We were about to start a sixth game when a small group of coeds challenged us to a friendly game. Heero'd accepted before anyone could say anything.

"Heero," Duo protested. "They're on the school team."

One of the guys chuckled. "Relax. We'll take it easy on you."

I saw Heero bristling and stepped forward quickly. "We only have four players, not a true team."

"What about him?" the player I knew played the guard position asked, gesturing to the lone figure in the corner of the gym.

With some surprise, I recognized him from one of my classes. "Duo, that's Wufei from Economics. I'll go ask."

It'd taken me a bit to convince him to join us; he hadn't wanted to break his routine.

The game started as I thought it would, the well-practiced team jumped off to an early lead. We'd limited the game to the first team to hit thirty, and they'd scored already scored nine. Trowa's basket earned us three, and we rallied. At no time had Heero passed the ball in my direction, at no time had he looked at me with anything other than a glare.

We'd been playing for over thirty minutes when I saw my chance. The scores had jumped to twenty-six to twenty-five, their favor. I tracked the ball as it passed from player to player. Heero's man had the ball, feinted and the shorter man took the bait. I dodged my guard, darted in and snatched the ball from the other's hand, dribbling down the court for all I was worth.

My way suddenly blocked, I looked around for one of my teammates. All but Heero were too well covered. Taking the chance, I feinted, pivoted, and passed the ball quickly calling his name. Though his appeared surprised, he caught the ball, ran the court and made the basket. Twenty-seven to twenty-six.

Getting fouled hadn't been the way I wanted the game to end, but the player I'd taken the ball from wanted revenge.

Flat on my back, I watched in shock as Heero was the first to stand over me. He bristled, his hands clenched into fist threatening the taller player. Like some bizarre honor guard, my other teammates formed a half circle around me as I caught my breath and Duo helped me to my feet. The face off had the marks of getting ugly fast, and I shook off the dazed feeling in a hurry.

"Let's make this interesting," I announced, moving forward. "How about if I make this shot, we win and I buy the pizza, but if I don't, you win and I still buy." My offer broke up the worst of the tension, and most the opposing team relaxed. Duo flashed me a grateful look before slinging his arm around Heero's shoulders, drawing him away and whispering urgently in his ear.

I made the shot.

Wufei'd begged off, saying he wanted to get back to his interrupted routine, and I was sorry to see him leave. He'd played a good game. I made a mental note to look him up after the next class together, maybe invite him into our study group.

Pizza at the Grapevine was an experience never forgotten. Not only did the place serve the best damn pizza, the owner himself made it a point to visit every table at least once during your dinner. He also had a habit of making embarrassing announcements to the room at large. So it was with much chagrin a few players of the school's team suffered teasing throughout dinner from most of the other diners.

It'd still been early, but the four of us returned to my room to take showers and change. We'd talked about going out - to a movie, a club, or even a short tour of the town, but neither Heero nor Trowa were interested. Duo settled for a movie instead.

Halfway through the movie, when Duo rose to use the lavatory, Heero asked me to walk him to the nearest convenience store. For smokes, he said. Later, though it could have been my distrust of the man, I thought he'd just been waiting for the opportunity to get me alone.

Trowa's startled glance tipped me off that it'd been an unusual request. Heero's steady gaze never left my face. Keeping my voice level, showing no hint of the apprehension I felt, I replied, "All right." And got to my feet.

Heero brushed off Trowa's hand and we left.

Our walk was in silence except for my occasional comment about a building or pointing out a spot of interest. It wasn't until we were in sight of the store that Heero stopped me. His eyes had lost the hostility; they were no less intense. He seemed to want to say something, but held back, looking from the ground to my face and then away.

"That was a good game," I offered. "You play well."

He snorted, more self-deprecating than derisive. Leveling his gaze, he stated "You played better. More like a team member."

I shrugged and gave a small smile. "We were a team."

Shoving his hands in his jeans' pockets, he said flatly, almost disinterested, "Duo likes you, cares for you a lot."

Not what I'd been expecting from him, I could only stammer, "I care for him a lot as well."

Heero glared piercingly. "You'd better." Shaking his head, he looked off into the distance, blew out a breath and shot a glance at the store across the street. "He... we're like family. He ...he means a lot to me." To say he had been uncomfortable would have been a gross understatement.

Thinking I knew what he was trying to say, I spoke softly, "I will always treat Duo well. I wouldn't hurt him for the world."

He frowned and ran a hand through his hair, an edgy habit I'd seen Duo use a hundred times. "That's not what I mean. If he gets hurt, he'll get hurt. You can't control that. It happens." He did another of his point checks, this time stopping to keep his eyes glued on some spot over my left shoulder. "For a lot of his life he needed me. I'd been the only one there for him. Not even Trowa could..." he broke off a moment, his eyes flicked to mine before resuming his fixed look. "He's torn between us, you know," he said softly. Before I could speak, he raised a hand to cut me off.

"He's changed a lot since the summer." His gaze settled on me. "But that was the whole purpose in getting him here. To become a better man. Better than Trowa and me."

I shifted, uncertain as to what he was getting at. "He's a good man."

Heero nodded, almost negligently. "With you, he'll become a better one." He gave me another intense look. "Go back to the dorm," he commanded. "I'll find my way - later." And he left me standing on the sidewalk, watching him cross the street.

It'd taken him over an hour to return.


One memory from their visit stood out more from the feelings it evoked rather than words or actions passed between either of them. Heero had returned to the room, and, giving into Duo's pleas, Trowa'd taken out his guitar. He played and sang a couple of songs I didn't recognize; later Duo informed me Trowa had wrote and composed them. I was pleasantly surprised when both Duo and Heero joined him in a couple of other songs - Duo's deep baritone providing descant to Heero's tenor and both in counterpoint to Trowa. He played one last song before calling it a night. And his choice left me puzzled, but too peaceful to comment on it.

My back propped against the wall, I sat straight-legged on my bed with Duo's head on my lap. One of his arms wrapped around my back while the hand of the other stroked my leg in a light touch; one of my hands rested on a hip, and the other in his hair. The desk lamp the only light, casting more shadow than illumination. Heero laid on Victor's bed, curled around Trowa as he sat on the edge. The moment held an ethereal quality. Listening to Trowa's voice, my ears supplied the sounds of Seger and it was summertime.

The next morning, I stood back, watching Heero load the car as Trowa said his good byes. Duo'd given him a loose-armed hug, teased him about keeping the thug in line; my eyes stayed on Heero. When he finished packing, he led Duo a short walk away. Trowa and I passed small talk, but I hardly looked at him. His arms around Heero's neck, I could see Duo's shoulders move and his head nod against the man's chest. They stayed wrapped in each other for several minutes before Heero pulled away. He gave Duo a smile, and started towards the car; Duo didn't move but followed him with his eyes. After a couple of steps, Heero stopped and turned. He said something I couldn't hear. And for a moment, Duo looked shocked, his eyes had widened and he shot a look at me.

Heero nodded in my direction before climbing in behind the wheel. Trowa snorted, amused. He offered me a friendly smile, said his good-bye again, and joined Heero in the car. Duo stood in the parking lot for several minutes; he watched the car enter the street and disappear turning a corner.

He never offered and I'd never asked what Heero'd told him that morning. And though the questions were there, Duo'd held silent; the both of us suspected the same - Heero's conversations had been for our ears along, not to be shared.


Sneaking a peek at Duo to see if he still monitored me, I discovered he'd fallen asleep. Since it'd become useless to pretend any longer, I closed my book, stacked my notes, and put the lot away. In that minute, though I knew I'd pass the class, I cared little if my grade point average suffered.

I turned my chair to watch him, looking for signs that belied his earlier announcement.

In sleep, his brow had lost that slight puckering frown it'd held all night, the skin around his eyes and mouth had become lax. He looked at peace, at ease and without care. A few strands of hair fell across his cheek, one moved slightly as he exhaled. His lips were parted; his allergies must have been bothering him again for him to breathe through his mouth. The dark smudges hinted at sleepless nights, shadowed fair skin over high cheekbones. And though angular in shape, his cheeks still held the leftover chubbiness of his youth.

Though I'd probably kissed it a thousand times, and wanted to wring it a thousand more, I don't think I'd ever noticed his neck before. Long and narrow but solid, its corded muscle stood out. His tee-shirt skewed to the side, exposing his collar bone. I resisted the urge to trace my fingers over it. His arms deceptively thin, I knew hid well-defined muscle; I'd wrestled him, been lifted by him, been held by those arms too many times to not know. And his hands, small though they appeared, they were strong with long nibble fingers capable of delivering extreme pleasure or great pain.

His clothing disguised the toughened wryly muscled body, and had led more than one person to assume him less than what he was. I'd always considered myself of average height at five nine and for some reason, Duo seemed to be taller, larger than average. In reality, the top of his head barely reached my nose. Fondly, I tracked his lines, down over his torso, lingering at his hips to continue over trim athletic legs and ending with his feet. I loved the man's feet. Small and compact, his toes bare stubs, I'd spent many hours on them, rubbing them, holding them, sucking on the toes. At first, I'd thought it more than odd, but since no one else's feet evoked such a response, I chose to believe it had been just part of being with Duo. Stifling a sigh of unrequited longing, I looked away.

It was then I noticed how thin Duo'd gotten. His jeans pulled away at the waist; his shirt partly hiked up to reveal a very slender abdomen. I had to admit he looked a lot better than he had during our last meeting a little over a week ago. And then he'd looked like he hadn't slept in months, hadn't showered in days. His normally fastidiously kept hair hadn't seen a brush in a long time; his clothes looked as though he'd picked them up off the floor to wear.

I'd been running late to meet with my Economics study group, having already spent several hours with Wufei discussing another class. When I'd exited the dorm building, Duo was right behind me calling out my name. His appearance had been shocking. I hadn't seen him in weeks, though we continued to share classes, most of the lecture halls were large enough I rarely spotted him, and I made it a habit to avoid looking if I didn't have to.


"I've seen you with him. That Wufei. Is he fucking you now?" his voice harsh and demanding.

"What?" His words startled me with their ferocity. "What are you talking about, Duo?"

He stood in front of me, defiant and wild-eyed, a few feet from the dorm's entrance. The wind had picked up, and other than the two of us, everyone hurried to get inside; it was going to rain. "Wufei. Are you taking it in the ass for him? Is he your new boyfriend?" he ground out the words, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

I drew back from the violence in his eyes. "Are you drunk?"

"Fuck!" he shouted, drawing the attention of several passing students. "Is that all you think about?"

"Where you're concern, yes! You made it clear you preferred to be that way." I looked up feeling the first drops of the expected rain and cursed; I'd left my umbrella in my room. Turning away, I tossed out, "I'm late, it's raining and this conversation is over."

Duo grabbed my arm, pulling me around. "Is he your lover, Quatre? Does he fuck you like I did?"

Something in his attitude struck me wrong. I felt anger stirring and lashed out, "So what if he is? What's it to you?"

His face went livid and he opened and closed his mouth several times. "You fucking whore!" he hissed venomously. "I'll kill him."

Hard pelting drops fell, striking pavement, building and trees with deafening loudness. Duo continued to glare at me, and I couldn't look away. His threat had chilled. Some part of me wondered if he'd follow through.

"I knew you two fags were fuckin' idiots!" Miller's shout came from behind me. We both turned our anger to him. "Too stupid to get out of the rain. Standing here getting wet having a cat fight. Shit!"

"Get the fuck out, Mil," Duo told him in a low tone.

"Crap, Duo. Since you quit drinking, you've been a real asshole, you know that?" Miller laughed.

"Shut the fuck up, Miller."

"He quit drinking?" I asked, looking at Duo's roommate.

"Yeah, hasn't touched the stuff since you left." He laughed derisively.

Duo growled, "I said shut the fuck up!"

"Quatre, do me a favor and lay this prick. He hasn't had any since you two love birds broke up and he could use a fuck." Duo lunged forward, reaching for Miller but the man slipped out of the way, and into the dorm.

Duo turned back to me, anger still strong and heavy in his expression.

"Wufei isn't my lover. I have had only one," I said quietly, not sure if he heard me over the noise of the rain, not sure if I cared. "I have to go. Talk to me when I have time." Raising my face to the sky for a moment, I added, "And not in the rain next time." Turning away, I didn't wait for his response but ran off across the quad.


Watching him now, the temptation to lay next to him became overwhelming. I wanted to wake him, rip his clothes from his body, lick every inch of his skin, and physically show how much I still cared for him. I actually stood, my hands reaching for him before I caught myself. Deliberately moving away, I knew I had to think, I had to distance myself from Duo. Sex with him, I desired, I hungered for; questions I'd held too long needed answers. Memory evoked understanding needed to be addressed.

Without turning around, I left, closing the door softly behind me.


~

*Note: a cookie to the first person who knows the song Trowa was singing.