Notes: This in Heero's PoV. Kind of a side idea that I had to try. The title that of a song by Muse.

Chapter Three: Unintended

The streets were covered in the sticky rain that trickled down the sides of bars. It made his shoes stick to the pavement of the filthy street in the underdeveloped country. The sky had turned dark almost four hours ago, and Heero had just woken up from a long day without much sleep. His head was still pounding from the drinking the night before, as well as the loud music that had poured from the club. His eyes were red around the edges, though his hair kept that from being too noticeable. His hair was tussled, and his clothes were a far cry from clean. He couldn't remember the smell of sea air; couldn't remember the last time that he had felt clean cloth.

With a weary sigh, he ran his hand through his hair, and cast a glance to the wondering moon. She was the only one that he had left; the only one that he could have, at least until all of this was resolved. A few more months; Quatre had been picked up by Duo, he was sure of that much, and he could wait a few more months to be reclaimed.

Not in all of his years did Heero Yuy think that he would ever find himself in a place like this.

No one could find him here; he was under a different name, and never stayed more than one night anywhere. He paid for everything in cash, as not to leave a paper trail. He'd liquidated his bank accounts and kept bills stored away in a very safe place. Tonight, however, he had finally had enough of denying himself.

Heero glanced about before heading into the shady joint at the very end of the street. His hands shoved deep into his pockets, he glanced up to check the sign before walking into the poorly built shack. This was the place that he had been told about…this had to be it.

Smoke hit him like a wave as he walked into the tiny single-roomed area, glancing about. Surprisingly enough, it was full of beautiful women, all dressed in almost the same outfit. Their hair was cut in different lengths and styles, as to appeal to different…buyers.

Their bodies were pulled into thin clothes. They all had the same blank and empty expression painted on their faces. He had seen it before in a thousand eyes. Heero was no stranger to places like this…no stranger to ladies of the night. It was enough for him, he had decided long ago, to have one night away from the pain of the guilt that ripped him to shreds from the inside out.

Then again, he thought with a weary glance around, he hadn't done this since Relena died. He had really never had a need. Quatre had been there to pick up the pieces of what he was before, and it was Quatre who had been there to rebuild him into something close to human again. The cold, hard stab of guilt drove into his insides as he tried to decide what to do. Should he have even been standing there at all? He could still leave if he wanted to, he reminded himself.

He had heard (from where he couldn't remember) that there were men out in the back. Slowly, Heero made his way through the room, and the eyes of the women followed him. They were like a pack of trained dogs…obedient until there was a sign of weakness. Their cold, black eyes watched him as he opened the door and moved out.

Outside, in the cool autumn air, men were standing along the wall in various positions. Combing his eyes over the mass of them, Heero tried to clear his mind and make his choice. He didn't want to stay longer than it would take to find his replacement.

There were tall ones, and young ones. There were old ones, and some more handsome than others. Some were exotic, dark-skinned with lovely brown eyes…others were plain-looking with brown hair and various eyes, all with the same expression.

But, at the end of the line of them, there was a small, light-skinned boy with silvery blonde hair. It was longer than Quatre's, and the boy was a little too thin to be a perfect match…but the resemblance was almost enough to knock Heero off his feet. Could he do this? Could he betray everything that he had lived for?

That had already been done.

Heero held his breath for a moment before letting it out slowly. He might have found the answer to his silent fears and questions. Perhaps he could find his relief in this one…in this man who had no name to him.

He had stopped finding meaning in one-round bar fights with men a bit more drunk than he was. They only gave him a momentary rush, which left him itching for more of something that he knew he shouldn't have lusted for in the first place. Heero needed the warm press of skin against his own skin to ease the pain in his chest and the burning in his brain.

Circling this tall, lithe boy once, and then again, hero saw exactly what there was to offer:

The skin of this little blonde one was soft and seemed to have an almost luminous glow to it. His face was gentle, with only the slightest pout to his lower lip. He was shorter than Heero, but taller than Quatre by almost two inches.

He would be almost perfect.

The perfect soldier extended his hand, and the boy accepted it with ease. Not quite gifted with the language of these parts, Heero spoke only in numbers. He was slowly led, down a long winding path, to a complex of rooms behind the makeshift 'bar'.

Drawing a key from his pocket, this boy spoke a singe, triple digit number. A number, Heero thought that was a bit high. He couldn't exactly, complain, however, and nodded his agreement, watching the boy as he moved and spoke. Trying to get a feel for what he was getting himself into.

The boy pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked the large oak door, marked with the number 486. The door swung open, and Heero got a good look around. The room was a square, with soft green walls, lined with a deep blue trim. The furniture was cheap and mostly plastic. That was, except for the bed.

The bed was a large canopy number, with a feathery soft mattress, covered in green silk sheets. Four tall pillars surrounded the base, and they were topped with long silk curtains of an aqua shade. The whole affair was quite elegant, and Heero found himself approving. So, the number had been a bit high…at least he was getting his money's worth. Just laying in that bed would be a nice change from what he had put himself through lately.

Before things got started, Heero had to make one rule quite clear. Touching the boy's shoulder to get his attention, he stepped around to look him in the eyes. He pointed to his own chest, before saying his name softly. He then repeated the process, pointing at the boy in question, and whispering "Quatre."

The boy nodded his understanding before moving closer, slipping out of his shoes. His eyes softened into pools of golden light, and he caressed Heero's cheek. The brunette felt his lips part as a sigh escaped him, a shiver running down his spine.

Quivering slightly, he drew the smaller boy into his arms and kissed him as he had only dreamt of doing for the past month. The fire behind the other male's lips was unmistakable, and persistent, as he returned the advances openly.

Heero let himself slip into the memories. He pictured Quatre's face and lifted the other boy up, wrapping this pretender's legs around his waist. Holding the kiss, he slowly made his way to the bed and set him down. With a tender, gentle touch, he removed the barriers between them, before pressing the other boy back.

"Quatre's" body was warm and giving, in this moment. Heero found no rejection here, and his guilt melted into the warm press of flesh. No pain. No hurt. Heero didn't have to face his mistakes with this man. There was only the warmth as he felt himself melt into the other man with a quiet shiver.

Their bodies melded in a wave of heat. Sheer bliss and blinding relief flooded his entire system as he disappeared in the other's touch. Pleading need was the only thing that he could see now. He hardly knew this man…and yet he found more comfort here than anywhere else in the world at the moment. Envisioning only Quatre's face, he poured himself into the sensations. He was safe, he told himself, as he panted in the other's ear. Quatre was here…right here, safe, and completely his again.

They were together, at last. Everything had worked out the way that he had hoped it would.

Bright colors flooded his vision as he released hard, managing only to cry a single name before falling what felt like miles onto the other man's chest. He was exhausted, lying atop this boy, content to place kisses along his jaw-line and throat.

The boy sat, looking down at Heero for a moment, using a gentle finger to brush some hair from his eyes. To Heero's astonishment, he began to speak.

"You must…really…love him." Almost perfect Japanese. Heero could only nod and turn his eyes away.

"I…I do love him. I love him very much." He whispered, sitting up himself and moving away.

"He is…luck…to have Heero." He said gently, offering a finger in Heero's direction. The guilt returned almost as soon as it had disappeared. There was nowhere to run now…no way to hide from it again. They both began to dress once again, and Heero gathered his things from where they had fallen on the ground. Quietly, he slipped the money onto the nightstand, and pulled on his shirt.

"Goodbye, Heero."

Heero couldn't let his hopes rise as he started from the room and closed the door. Crossing the tiny courtyard, he straightened his clothes. He was leaving at first light…and taking Wing Zero with him. The undestroyed Gundam waited for him out in the jungles outside of town. Safely hidden, he knew that it would be there for him when he went for it. He was a pilot until the day that he died…and not even this was going to change that.