Thanks to Misty for nitpicking. Annnnnd to my other beta-er, David. YES I HAVE A MALE BETA NOW. Thank the sweet heavens.

Diet Coke in heavy quantities produces headaches. No mas, no mas!

I felt like a truck had hit me in the morning, though.

I never was big on alcohol. Maybe it was the idea that I wasn't controlling myself, that something artificial was giving me the buzz I would feel. Having a mild hangover was no new feeling but that didn't make it any less pleasant.

I shrugged into my boarding clothes and snatched up Wing, my board, slipping out of the room. The red tail was painted with a streak of gold, and the make was the best money could buy… it had been a gift a few months ago from one of the companies, and it was my pride and joy. Though I'd never told anyone else I'd secretly named it—that would just be weird. The clock read six oh nine. Five hours of sleep? No problem. I'd spent the last few months staring at the ceiling for the better part of a night, anyways.

Get her out of your head.

"Fuck," I muttered under my breath, punching the keys on the elevator door and riding it down to the basement level. There was a back door I could probably get out of there without being seen. I'd done a casual walk-around of the hotel, though it wasn't really necessary with all the security around; old habits died hard, I guess, and though it hurt to think of dad I knew that's what he would have done if he was with me.

The doors slid open and J was there, leaning casually against one of the gray walls. Down here in the basement nobody cared about décor much. I narrowed my eyes at him: "What're you doing here?" I asked slowly, trying to avoid sounding malicious. I had hoped for some alone time.

"Kid, day after tomorrow's the first run. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not. That's what you pay me for." He winked, and I remained impassive. "Fine," I said in a cold tone. Don't slow me down.

He noticed my somewhat tired-looking appearance and raised one eyebrow, his look melting into one of concern: "Kid, you takin' care of yourself? You're not feelin' shitty again, are you--?"

"No," I said, anger swirling up inside me. I wanted to punch a hole in the wall. I had been able to control the anger attacks recently, and I'd been getting better with managing the sudden 'triggers' that would send me off. I knew this would not be a full blown attack, and took a few deep breaths.

J watched me coolly. "Take it easy. We'll do the course until you want to come in." Not insistent, but reassuring. He knew how I could get. Knew how I could get… like I was some kind of diseased invalid, or a shrink case that needed certain circumstances to function normally…

I let out the breath I was holding, feeling the anger flood away as quickly as it had come. "Okay, okay," I said, regaining my composure, following him out the door.

I always thought of J as a mathematical genius, so it confused me why he'd want to become a snowboard coach. But to each his own, I guess. He never struck me as the athletic type, but he always knew what he was talking about, and that's what was important. He wasn't a friend, but... he was the closest thing I would call a father under current circumstances.

The next two hours consisted of me speeding my way down the practice course like a bullet, with him watching me through those thick greenish-silver glasses he liked to wear. They made him look like a retard, though I don't think he knew it. Some people just looked plain stupid in glasses, like Relena when she'd had to buy a pair. They'd been too small for her and she'd kept them in her shirt front and never actually used them…

…No.

Concentrate! You can't afford to be thinking about her now!

I gritted my teeth as I slid off the ski lift, skimming down to where J waited.

"One more run? Dip your nose a bit more when you turn into those moguls, bend your knees more. But you know that already."

I shot off without hearing the rest. Just board. Live. Get through it. Keep moving.

"Heero! HEERO!" Hilde yelled right in my ear, and I turned, distracted. We were making our way through the crowd, the three of us, and I was just looking around at the athletes swarming by, trying to figure out where the hell I was supposed to be in this maelstrom. Hilde caught me by the elbow and pointed at a spot a little ways down. "Our seats are over there! Damnit, where were you last night? I couldn't get a hold of you! You didn't show up for rehearsal this morning, did you?"

"Charisma," I said curtly.

"Where's that?" she yelled back.

"Club. Other side of town." I wasn't in the mood to talk, and she knew it. I was showered and pressed and suited up in Salvage and True Religons. I felt like some kind of puppet, displayed for all to see. Hilde gave me a scowl: "I hate clubs. You'd better not stay out too late tonight. First race's at three PM."

"I know," I replied curtly as we found our seats and sank down. "I won't."

She grinned at me and fingered a lock of her just-getting-longer bluish hair. "Ooh, look, the skiers," she suddenly exclaimed, pointing to the box just below us. "Is that the American team? Ugh. My last boyfriend was a skier. Hated him to death!" she hugged herself, the lapels of her suit-top widening as her arms crossed. "I remember one time…"

I wasn't listening, though. My attention had been sorely caught. And my heart rate spiked. Just an adrenaline rush, I self diagnosed, though it felt like I might be choking. There in the second to front row of the Ski Team seating was Duo, his legs crossed and his arms folded on his chest in rapt attention.

Wufei Chang was seated next to him, and as Duo seemed to be spacing off, the Chinese man curled a fist around his braid near where it joined his head and tugged lightly, enough to get Duo to laugh and swat his hand away.

I couldn't stop staring. Hair like that… isn't normal…

Oh, shit. I couldn't be actually feeling like this for Duo, could I? I hardly even knew him! He'd just been nice to me, that was all, and I was starving for attention… looking for fulfillment somewhere else… another self analysis. If I rationalized my thoughts I could keep them at bay.

But it should be a sin to look like that.

And damn, he did look a sight. He was wearing a sleeveless red shirt of which I couldn't see the front, and jeans that sagged down on his rather narrow hips, exposing just enough skin between the waistline and the hem of the shirt to drive anyone who saw him crazy, no doubt. Wufei said something to him with an impassive face and he grinned, taking a moment to reply…

"…And then he told me he was bisexual, you know—Heero, are you okay?

It took me a while to raise my head and nod without any conscious thought. Hilde followed my line of sight to where I was staring, but seemed unable to find Duo. "What're you looking at?" she asked casually, a finger laid on her chin.

"Nothing," I growled. Suddenly I didn't like the idea of anyone staring at him—anyone else looking at him that way. He's –mine- to look at!

And I blinked. What had made me think that, of all things? You're crazy, Yuy.

Hilde just chuckled. "Okay, okay. Forget I asked," she said fondly.

The music died down. Someone approached the center torch, carrying a lit flame of their own. Some former athelete whose name I couldn't remember. The crowd went wild momentarily, Hilde whistling shrilly on my left and cheering loudly. The ceremony had begun; an Italian singer got up on the center stage down below. I could barely make out her features from where we sat, but that's how I liked it; I'd have hated to be any closer to the throng of people down in front of the stage. Damn me and my agoraphobia.

My eyes drifted down below to where Duo was. He and Wufei were having much more fun than was reasonable, with Duo cracking jokes and pointing at various people below and Wufei nodding his head with a stern smile, which was probably as warm as he got. The whole time Duo had his braid over one shoulder and was fingering the end as if it were a good-luck charm, something reassuring to him.

The next three hours I spent staring at the back of his head, willing him to turn and look at me—and not, at the same time, because what could I do? I wouldn't speak to him again. I wouldn't dare approach him. I have to crush this, I thought. You're an idiot, Yuy. Just because he gives you a bit of conversation you're suddenly…

…suddenly what? Wanting to talk to him. Wanting to be his friend.

I don't deserve companionship anymore. I can't be a friend to anyone.

When Hilde beckoned for me to follow her, I did, tearing my eyes away from Duo and Wufei as they disappeared into the crowd. She never touched me—she knew how I was about people grabbing me—and instead smiled reassuringly at the top of the stadium as we exited to the parking lot. "See? That wasn't so bad," she said with a grin. "Weren't those gymnasts awesome, and the torch lighting? Which was your favorite, Heero?"

"The… what?" I asked. I hadn't paid attention to what was actually going on.

"Y'know, out of all the acts. Which did you like?"

"They sucked," I replied, which was the safest option. "All of them."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Or were you just staring at that blonde girl in the front?"

I narrowed my eyes at her. She thought Duo was a girl? It's none of her business! She put her hands up: "Sorry, sorry! But it...it's good that you're getting over Relena, you know. It's good for you to look at other people, even if—"

"Shut up," I said, my voice deadly and full of ice. She could feel the anger radiating off me and abruptly closed her mouth. "Just… shut up, Hilde."

She got a slightly wounded look in her eye, but shrugged it off. My anger melted away just like it had come, disappearing suddenly and leaving me with guilt. She's been one of the few people who stood by me these past months since the accident and Relena leaving. She deserves better than this from me. My stomach knotted up painfully, as it always did whenever I thought about these things.

I wonder if she ever found out that for a month after she left, I sat in the tree next to her window and watched her sleep about twice a week. I wonder if she knew that I was there? She never said anything. If she'd found out she would probably have put a restraining order on me, sick bastard that I was, but she never did, so maybe she had no clue. "Guardian angel" nothing. I wanted her back, badly, but I would never admit it.

I could never admit that I was weak. Ever.

Neither could I apologize to Hilde, who kept walking in silence.

We got back to the hotel a few blocks from the ceremony site, and Hilde nodded goodbye to me. She did speak then: "Are you doing anything tonight? I'm giving comment to a local magazine and I think J's going to some kind of coaches' party, but if you want to meet up later we could do something…? It'd just be us two, like friends."

"I'll stay in tonight," I told her. "No thank you."

She got that wounded-puppy look in her eyes that I hated on a woman. Not that I had sympathy for anybody, anybody at all, but studying her face I realized something horrible.

Hilde was in love with me. Actually… in love… with me. How hadn't I seen it before?

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes!" I snapped. I hated when people asked me twice about anything. I could feel myself closing up with the realization, feel every fiber in my body tensing for rejection.

"O-kay," she said, letting out a short breath. "Well, take care of yourself, Heero."

As soon as she was gone I walked through the front doors. The lobby was deserted for the most part save for a few employees, and as I got into the elevator I slammed my hands against the railing. "Damnit, damnit, damnit!" I shouted.

Why me? Why couldn't I just be back home in Ontario, just living a normal life for once and not having to deal with all of this?

I couldn't even recall dad's face anymore. Mom's face had faded long ago. I could only remember bits and snatches of memories from a while back.

"Odin, he's got it! Aww, I'm so proud—ah, he's going to fall, Odin, catch him—"

"No, leave him. If he doesn't learn how to fall he'll never be good at it."

I stared at him reproachfully as I brushed snow off myself. I was probably about nine or ten, and had a bright blue snowboard strapped onto my feet. I was on the tiniest run on the mountain, and it was sometime in December. I only remembered grimacing at him, and then… nothing else…

Winning his approval had been everything to me...

I slipped under the shower's spray. Even in the hotel room I followed a set ritual. Shower, dress, TV for an hour, sleep. Sometimes I would eat, but more often than not I wouldn't. Food had no appeal for me. If Hilde or J came over they would cook for me, but I hated it, because I felt like an invalid then. The grieving process, they said about me, I knew. He shouldn't be by himself in a house. But they left me alone for the most part when I asked them to and I kept living alone anyways. Nothing much changed except that Relena left soon after.

Hilde was a good woman. She was smart beyond belief, funny, cheerful, feminine in a cute sort of way but not over the top. Any guy would kill for a chance with her.

I didn't love her.

Wrapping a towel around my waist, I skipped the dressing part and just sank down on the couch, flipping on the TV. I flicked to the local news channel in this town and settled into a boneless lump, trying to get as comatose as possible. This was probably how I'd spend the evening, and I didn't mind; the less contact I had with people, the better.

"And now we move to a special report on this year's Olympics! Yes, the ceremony has taken place, and shortly we'll see a recap of the events that took place, just after we take a look at this year's competition…" the anchorman shuffled his papers, and a newswoman spoke up. "There are several up-and-coming atheletes this year, the most noticeable of which is…" she twittered off into the specifics of several members of the figure skating team, and I snatched up the remote, turning the TV off exasperatedly.

Couldn't I get away from these stupid games?

I looked at the phone. Nobody to call, of course. I didn't have 'friends'. I didn't need friends, anyways. But I had to get out of here. I would explode if I didn't do something.

I let out a long breath, and then I got up to get dressed.

This time I knew where I was going, and that made me a little more confident than last time. The bartender gave me a short nod as I came up, recognizing me from the other night but like a good man not saying anything. "Just beer. Surprise me," I said tiredly. Alcohol: the gods' gift to mankind. He handed me the glass and the remainder of the bottle and I sighed, looking out at the crowd of pulsating bodies.

"Having a tough time?" he asked from behind me.

"No."

"Says you." He went back to polishing a glass and setting it below the counter. I scowled to myself, swearing that if I ever had a hit list he would be at the very top for thinking he understood one iota of me.

"By the way, your blonde friend's over there," he pointed out.

"I don't…" I started, and then his words sank in. "What?"

"Over there. Down the line, see?" there were a cluster of tables on the opposite side of the upper deck, where the bar was. One such table was pressed against the balcony, looking down at the dancefloor below. An enormous red lava lamp was situated right next to it, the bubbles of liquid oozing up and down in tiny patterns.

Duo was sitting with Trowa and Quatre, sans Wufei it seemed. The latter two were gathered pretty close as if they were forming some secret plan between them, talking, and Duo was leaning back against the seat, eyes scanning the room boredly.

He spotted me at the same time I caught sight of him, and his eyes widened, just a little.

"He's been here every night the last two weeks. I'm starting to think he lives here," the bartender told me, but I ignored him, too busy pretending like I hadn't seen Duo. He chuckled to himself.

I dared to raise my eyes again to where Duo was. He was still looking at me, and when our eyes locked he grinned and beckoned me over with one hand. Shit, he's seen me! I panicked. It's not like I was afraid of him, but… the thought of human interaction was a scary one. Of actually being forced to talk, to make eye contact with other people.

But he'd called. I had to come.

I left my drink there and the money to pay for it. The bartender gave me a self-satisfied smirk and I glared at him before slipping away from the bar and over to where Duo's table was, conscious of every step. His smile only brightened as I approached and he patted the seat next to him. Rather than telling him to fuck off and getting away from there as quickly as possible, as I would have done with anyone else, I found myself taking a seat. Like some kind of zombie, I was no longer in control of my body.

"Heero! Thought I saw you over there and wasn't sure. I didn't see you at the ceremony today."

"I was… above you," I said slowly. Monotonically.

"Up higher? Oh, that makes sense. Wufei was going to come tonight but he had some kind of training to do. Which means, of course, that he's off screwing Kit Lorenza—that's moving fast, even for him." He shrugged.

"Oh," I said. I didn't know what else to say.

"So. The first snowboard heat is tomorrow, right? How're you feeling?"

"Fine." Keep it to one word answers. Fuck, he made me feel odd. Highwired, tense in a good kind of way, on-edge and if he so much as touched me I would have to come closer and I wanted to run like hell. But then I felt the tiniest bit guilty for shrugging him off like that; after all, I had made the decision to come over, hadn't I? "It won't be hard," I told him.

"You're that sure?" he replied. "Hmmm. I wish I had your kind of resolve."

"Yeah, well." My face burned at the compliment. Thank God the club was mostly red and my skin tone wasn't an issue in the near-darkness. I looked briefly over and saw that Trowa and Quatre had gotten even closer, so that their noses were about an inch apart. Quatre's eyes were lowered, like he wasn't even looking Trowa in the eye anymore.

Oh, God.

"Just ignore 'em," Duo said with a smirk. I realized that he'd seen me staring at them out the corner of my eye and shuddered, just a little bit. But not with repulsion. With… jealousy. Envy, maybe. I wanted that—a working relationship. I wanted to feel lust pumping me like a drug again, squeezing into me until I was so full I could explode. I wanted to feel those things again like I used to. "They're funny kids, those two."

I would later remember this as being the milestone to my recovery. The moment I decided that I actually wanted to have emotions again. I looked at Quatre and Trowa and I wanted it so bad.

"Quiet, pretty boy," Trowa snapped in a quiet voice, clearly irritated. Quatre withdrew his head a few inches, blue eyes becoming worried and wide. "Trowa, he was just teasing! Please, don't yell…we're in public…"

"Doesn't matter. He's just jealous," Duo replied, pulling up the edge of his braid and flicking it in Trowa's direction like a paintbrush. The sudden motion was… coy. Sexy. How can I put it? He exuded confidence like a sponge with water.

Quatre grinned. "Don't use that line or I'll have to tell Heero here your secret." And then he leaned over and said it to me anyways behind one hand, though clearly loud enough that everyone at the table could hear: "He's really a brunette." He wasn't being rude, or mean, but prodding fun at Duo in a younger-brother sort of way. Duo furrowed his brows: "Hey! I happen to like the color. So what?"

"Yeah? Why don't you cut it, either?" Quatre shot back. "Vanity! That's why."

"Maybe I will, just to piss you off and prove you wrong."

"Don't cut it."

Everyone turned to stare at me.

"Huh?" Duo said, and I nearly grated my teeth at having to repeat myself.

"Don't cut your hair," I said flatly.

Duo grinned. "See? Heero likes it. You're crazy. Now get back to making out and let us carry on our conversation in peace, okay?"

Trowa stood, his face impassive, and grabbed Quatre by the hand, half-dragging him out of the booth and towards the restrooms without a single word. Quatre grinned back at us before disappearing from sight and then the two of us were left with each other.

"He… doesn't talk much," I said.

"Who, Trowa? Yeah. He's more of a 'work until you die, feel no emotion' type. Lot like you if you think about it, only… eh. I like you better." He made little air quotes with his fingers as he spoke, and once finished, He turned his face to look at me. "Now if only I could get you to talk to me…"

Suddenly I wanted desperately to prove him wrong, to be who he thought I was. "I can talk," Iassured him. "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to know why you're in the Olympics. Guy like you could easily be working in another job just as easily. Are you just an adrenaline junkie like me or is the sport a thrill for you?"

"I… " I considered it. Why did I want to be here? Why did I get such a high out of boarding in the first place? "I...enjoy flying," I said, the words difficult to place.

"…Flying? Thought you were a 'boarder."

"They are... the same thing. When I'm boarding… I feel like, I don't know. I wanted to be a pilot." The last part I forced myself to say: open yourself up a little. Make the crack wider. The thought of trusting someone terrified me, but I faced it as something I had to do. I have to do this perfectly. I will –not- tolerate failure in this!

He smiled, genuinely interested. "That's the damn best reason I've heard. Guess flying on the ground is the next best thing to flying in the air… but why didn't you become a pilot?"

"My dad wouldn't let me. Well, he wasn't my real dad. My real dad… died a long time ago. He was my step-dad. His name was Odin Lowe, but he changed to my mother's last name, which was Yuy, and then he taught me to board when I was small… he hated anything that had to do with the military and I guess he saw flying as part of that, so… uh, he told me I couldn't. I got pissed at him, tried to join up at flight school when I was younger and ended up dropping out after the accident, coming back to board full-time, that was what he always wanted from me so I'm doing it."

I had said all of this very quickly in a couple of breaths. He stared at me, lips a fraction apart: "That's the most I've heard out of you in one go. That's… well, tough." He put a hand on my shoulder, and I didn't even flinch. Just talking that much had taken more out of me than I'd have liked, and now I was feeling a little… woozy. Tired, overwhelmed, whatever you want to call it.

"Hey, I'm sorry for asking you to talk to me. Look, I didn't mean to force that on you. Are you okay? Shit, man, I'm sorry." He looked at me with genuine concern, then at the empty beer glasses on the table. "I'm gonna get you water or something, be right back."

He stood and walked off towards the bar. I looked down at my hands, which were clasped in my lap, and were shaking. They were both white around the fingers and knuckles, that's how hard I'd been holding them together. I pried them apart, as if they were living creatures independent of my own body, and took a few deep breaths to try and calm myself. I told him everything! I opened up for a little while.. he could hurt me, he could use that against me and I wouldn't have anything to defend with. He could insult me and I'd be open raw. I'd bleed if he hurt me now. God, why couldn't I stop breathing like this?

I looked back to the wall near the bar where Duo was, and saw that he was talking to a couple of burly, tall gentlemen with an angry look on his face. These guys were massive. Neither looked particularly intelligent, and both of them were leering at him with the kind of self-satisfied grin of a pervert having found a target.

One of them approached him and put their hands on his shoulders, pressing him against the wall as the other slid his hand up the front of Duo's shirt. He shrugged the hands off and tried to move forward, but they barred him and slammed him against the wall again.

I stood, my fists clenching. The first man bent down to whisper something in his ear, his hand sliding to rest on the waistband of Duo's jeans.

I flipped out.

That's a bit of an understatement, actually.

I walked forward at a very slow pace, and took several things into account at once, as if everything were happing in slow motion: Duo's look of surprise and fear, his wrists trying to draw the man off him. He was strong, but not strong enough to take them, and he didn't know the first thing about fighting. Luckily, from the way they were holding themselves, neither did these guys. But none of this entered my actual 'thought' processes: I placed one hand on the shoulder of the closest guy and punched him.

I was as tall as Duo. I was no more muscular than him, no more toned, no more at a physical advantage. But I had done this before, many times. I knew the familiar feelings of a fight coming up…

He never saw it coming. I felt cartilage and bone snap underneath my fist, heard his cheekbones snap and his nose give way under my fingers, heard him wheezing for breath as blood began dripping down his face instantly. He went down in a lump clutching at his face and screaming.

Just then the music rose into a crescendo. It became so loud that I couldn't hear myself at all, much less the screams of those who were falling under my hands. The second man rushed at me and tried to throw a punch. I caught the fist, shoved him off balance as I darted to the side, elbowed him in the ribs and felt several crack. He gargled and I slammed his head into the wall with one hand. If he wasn't dead, he was certainly going to be needing some intensive care.

But that wasn't all. Both were down on the ground. I slammed a kick into the first man's chest, and he rolled over with a grunt, almost unconscious. My next kick sent him about half an inch off the floor, and the next, and the next, and the next…

…I went into a haze…

"Heero, Heero, stop, stop! Stop!" Duo said. He had both hands on my arm and I was about to punch him, too, but at the last second something inside me snapped off neatly, like a switch. I paused with my fist in the air and lowered my arms to my sides, blinking.

"Duo."

"Yeah, me. Shit! Holy… Jesus… Christ, you…" he stared at the two lifeless bodies. We were just around the corner from the bar, in a small alcove, so nobody would see the bodies unless they came at just the right angle. His face gave away his fear and astonishment. "You took 'em down like… like a fuckin' professional or something…"

I suddenly sagged to my knees, and Duo paused. "Hey, Heero, don't go down here. C'mon, these losers are gonna get found soon and we don't want to be here." He looped an arm around my waist, helped me back to my feet as my head spun and I nodded groggily. "Come on, outside. I'll catch a cab and we can go back to my place, fix you up."

"No… my place," I managed. "Chateau Noir." I gave no reasons for my insistence, only that I wouldn't be taken somewhere familiar. Never. I had to always be under control.

He nodded, and somehow we stumbled out onto the sidewalk in front of Charisma.

He hailed a cab and shoved me in before getting in himself, answering the driver's questioning look with a snarl. "Chateau Noir, come on. Haven't got all night."

The cabbie merely shrugged and began driving. I must have zoned out for a little while, because next thing I knew Duo was paying the driver off and helping me out of the cab. I threw off his arm: "I'm not useless," I said venomously. I knew how to walk. I wasn't a stupid little kid. We rode the elevator up to my floor and I unlocked my hotel room door with a shaking fist, trying to concentrate on the lock so it wouldn't shake under my vision. The door swung open and I led inside, trying not to collapse.

"Hey, it's okay. Don't push it," Duo said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

It's okay.

God, I could have cried. Nobody had ever told me that. Not once. Sorry I'd heard a million times, and We can talk whenever you want even more than that. But nobody had ever told me… that it was all… fine.

He forced me to sit down on the bed and then sat next to me, his eyes piercing mine with nothing but concern. "You helped me out back there. That's not the first time that's happened. Usually I can take care of myself. But that was good of you. Thanks, Heero."

"You're, um, welcome," I said, and my eyes stopped swimming. I wouldn't cry. I had this under control, all of it. I couldn't afford to have anything less than complete domination over my emotions, all of them. "I'm just tired."

"Yeah, no shit, after flying into a rage like that. How do you know how to fight so well?"

"I got into a lot of fights when I was younger," I said matter-of-factly.

He accepted this without pressing any further, his mouth pressed into a very straight line. He looked irresistible like that, with his braid over one shoulder and pooling into my lap, his face very close to mine and his hand on my shoulder.

"I like your hair this color," I said, picking up the braid.

"What, got a blonde fetish?" He asked, smirking.

"No. I… am attracted to redheads, actually. But this… is good on you."

"Well, thanks. Brunette's good on you." He raised his other hand to my hair. "Guess this is the color mine would be about if I hadn't dyed it. Been dying it since I was sixteen."

"Oh," I said, and kissed him.

I couldn't help it. It was instinct. Magnetism. An invisible rope drawing me to him and forcing my hands, like those of a puppet, around his waist and shoulders, crushing him against me as our mouths met. He wasn't saying no, either: he was more than happy to kiss me back.

…Relena…

Just as suddenly I shoved him away. "Fuck!" I swore. "I can't!"

He was at first surprised. But then he smiled, his face just the tiniest bit pumped with blood. "It's okay. I understand, man. You don't need to rush anything. It's okay."

There it was again. It's okay.

I sagged onto the comforter. "You can go home if you don't want to be here," I said, my voice turning robotic again.

But Duo only smiled wider. "What, and leave you by yourself? No way. Even if I did go back to the club it would only be to find Quatre and Trowa screwing in the bathroom, and having to drag 'em out anyways and watch 'em make out the whole cab ride home. I think I'll pass, thanks. Now come here." He bent over me and began undoing the zipper on my pants. I sat up, going ramrod-straight: "What are you doing?" I asked, my voice hurried.

"You're not going to sleep in these pants, are you?" he asked.

"No," I said, still half-frightened that he might leave but even more afraid that he might want that from me. I couldn't give it. Not yet, not so soon... I couldn't open myself up that far or I'd shatter, every defense I'd carefully constructed would come down. But could I really say no if he asked? He tugged on one leg and then the other, manipulating the fabric. The pants came off. He didn't touch anything more.

"Tartan boxers, eh? Get to sleep, Yuy. I'm appointing myself official doctor and roomie as of tonight, because I sure don't feel like going home and leaving you to yourself." He peeled back the covers as he said this and shrugged off his own pants, slipping under the sheets. "C'mere. It's all-right."

I felt like a skittish puppy. Inferior, somehow.

This was a test between me and myself. If you can learn to trust again, you can win your own bet.

I was determined to win.

I reluctantly got under after the shortest hesitation and he pulled me to himself so his chest was pressing against my back. He wrapped his arms around me, drew me close to him, settled in so that our bodies matched in the right places. Oddly enough I found my body matching its breathing to his, almost automatically. My speeding heart slowed down and the fatigue I'd been staving off consumed me entirely. I went limp against him.

"I'm sorry," I said, though the words were nothing more than a whisper.

"It's okay. I don't expect anything from you, Heero. I like you. Whatever you want is fine with me. Now get some sleep: You've got a race tomorrow." He flipped off the light.

In a few moments he was asleep. How weird was this? I was in a bed in a hotel being held—held—by another man. I had no qualms about being gay; I'd had several male lovers throughout highschool, and both my parents were… had been… fine with it. I'd had my share of female lovers, too; Relena most notably, but more besides her.

This felt like sin, though.

No, better than sin. It felt like absolution. It felt like I had been pardoned for something.

But I had work to do. In the morning I would once again be Heero Yuy, Professional Athelete and Twenty-Three-Year-Old Prodigy Of Canada, Ontario Province. But for now I was just me. All I had to do right now was be open with myself in the darkness, in my mind.

And maybe, in time, I could be open with him, too.