Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, have any relation to Gundam Wing, have no permission from those who created Gundam Wing to write this. This is purely for fun, to waste time, and to make other people happy reading and to spread the joy of slashy literature to all those poor unenlightened Fellow Man out there. I am making no profit from this.
Pairings: 2x1x2, side pairing 3x4
Summary: Heero was perfectly happy as a workaholic recluse, but then Quatre declared War on him and suddenly there's a sugar-high American at his door, messing up the house and showing him that maybe, he hadn't been that happy after all...
Roommate: Unwanted
Chapter Twelve: Squeaks and Sulks
Duo opened his mouth and squeaked.
Heero stared at him.
Clearing his throat, Duo tried again. "Um… hello," he managed, while his brain gibbered.
Heero continued to stare.
"Nice night?" Duo tried, only half-aware of what he was saying. God, the intensity of those eyes…
"Hn." Staaaaare.
Duo had no idea where their absolutely scintillating conversation would have gone from there if Quatre hadn't appeared with a delighted, "Duo! You look wonderful! Oh, it's been ages since I've seen you, I'm so sorry about how busy I've been, we haven't even talked on the phone recently, but I'll make more of an effort now, I swear! Did I mention you look wonderful?"
Grateful for the distraction, Duo tore his eyes away and turned to face Quatre, trying to remember how to use his higher brain functions again. An easy grin found its way onto his face when he saw the honest happiness in light blue eyes; he had missed conspiring and talking with the bubbly little blond. "Hey Quat, good to see you again!" He spread his arms and gestured at himself with a sheepish laugh. "I feel ridiculous in these clothes, to tell you the truth. If it's any less me, it'd be a tricycle."
Quatre burst out laughing. "Duo! What does that have to do with anything? God, I really have missed you, none of my friends have quite your sense of humour." He came forward for a hug, which Duo gladly returned, and when he pulled away he gave Duo a once-over and shook his head with another laugh. "And please, you look stunning in a tux. It's just so different from your normal wear that it startles the eye and brings out your good looks, it really does. Don't you think so, Heero?" he said encouragingly, turning to the Japanese man.
"Hn." Staaaaaaaaare.
Duo's eyes were inexorably pulled back to the other figure beside them. He couldn't have fought it if he'd tried; it was an almost magnetic force. He wanted to correct Quatre: I can't look stunning, he wanted to say, because compared to THAT, Johnny Depp is a decrepit fashion disaster and Megan Fox is a frumpy, colour-blind grandmother. How is little old me supposed to compete?
Because Heero looked like a veritable Greek God.
No, wait, scratch that, he was a veritable Greek God. There was no other explanation. No one could ooze that much sex and charm and power and still be human! It wasn't possible! It wasn't fair!
Heero had always been hot, but dressed like this, he was bloody freaking hot. His normally unruly hair had been tamed to just the right degree, so that it was artfully messy, like he'd just tumbled out of a very well-used bed. The cut of his suit was perfectly suited to his lean strength, showing off the compact width of his shoulders, hinting at the trim waist, hugging that perfect butt and the length of his legs, hinting and revealing and hiding at the same time.
The black of the tux and the deep, glossy navy of his tie brought out the unbelievable brilliance of his blue eyes. Sapphires would melt in envy, and those women wearing sapphires tonight would weep knowing that their puny little jewels didn't even come close, especially when those eyes were – oh, god – artfully, just a hint, there-but-not-quite-there, lined with smoky kohl eyeliner. It accentuated his already intense eyes and added yet another sultry, just-out-of-bed touch. Quatre or Trowa had to have forced it onto him, there was no way Heero would have put on anything close to make-up willingly, and Duo made a mental note to figure out which of them it was so that he could buy them flowers. Or chocolate. Or both.
And the way Heero was standing, with his normal quiet, deadly grace, with that purely Heero confidence, relaxed and yet aware at the same time… actually, bloody freaking hot didn't even begin to cover it.
Gibber, gibber.
Haven't we been here before?
No, because I'd damn well remember if we had!
No, you idiot, I meant the gibbering.
Ah. Well, Heero tends to do that to me.
Mmm, he does that. The bunny eyed Heero appreciatively. You know, he does look extra scrumptious tonight…
Back off! Duo stabbed an imaginary carrot at the bunny in warning. Mine! Bad bunny!
Hello, I'm a figment of your imagination. What am I going to do, manifest myself and jump out from the middle of your forehead like some quadruped Athena with fur?
Uh…
Or are you planning to stab yourself in the imagination? How are you even going to determine which part of your brain that would be?
Uh… the right hemisphere controls creativity, doesn't it? That and spatial awareness, the thing that lets you imagine blueprints in 3-D. The left brain does logic, linear thinking. So imagination would probably come from the right side of the brain.
Hmm. Maybe you could pit the left lobe of your brain against the right, then. Bumper car wars, sort of thing, only it'd be bumper… brains?
Well, technically bumper car requires – wait a minute. I'm sorry, but what the hell? How did we even get here?
Don't look at me, it's your brain.
Mwahahaha!
…Is it just me, or did that mad cackle sound more like a mad, cackling… leer?
It's not just you. The bunny's eyes narrowed. Excuse me while I go pound the voice into the dust. I'll be back to fight you for Heero later.
I thought you were just a figment of my imagination!
There was a light cough to his left, making Duo blink. Trowa was smirking faintly at the two of them, and by his side, Quatre was all starry-eyed and had a big, dreamy smile on his face. "As much as I'd love to stand here staring at you two staring at each other," Trowa drawled, "we need to leave this alcove and start moving towards the actual ballroom."
Quatre couldn't seem to stop beaming, and he looked like he was almost physically refraining himself from saying something other than simply, "Come on, we'll be late."
The words didn't really register until Heero looked away – Duo hadn't even realised they'd been holding each other's gaze. "Hn," the Japanese man grunted, before stalking out of the alcove – god, even his walk was sexy, and the pants fit his legs and his ass like a glove –
A gentle hand caught his elbow and pulled him along. "Try to remember how to breathe and walk at the same time," Trowa murmured, unholy amusement in his voice.
"Easy for you to say," Duo muttered, trying to do exactly that – but his eyes and lungs and legs didn't seem to want to cooperate. One was glued to the man before him and the other two felt like tar and jelly respectively.
Trowa chuckled and let him go when he was moving properly, and moved smoothly up to walk beside Heero, letting Quatre drop back to pace Duo. The blond leaned in, eyes shining. "That was the cutest thing ever!" he said, barely managing to keep his voice low enough so that the other two couldn't hear. "You two couldn't tear your eyes from each other! I never thought I'd see the day when Heero would react to someone like that!"
Duo blinked at him, a thousand thoughts clamouring in his mind. One broke free, and popped out of his mouth: "You're not mad?"
"Mad?" Some of that scary sparkling faded, and Quatre tilted his head, confused. "Why would I be mad?"
"You hired me to help Heero turn into a normal person and here I am… well…"
"Oh!" Understanding dawned. "Don't be silly, Duo, do you think, what with Trowa and I, that I'd have anything against you and Heero? In fact, having you two fall for each other is much more than I ever hoped for when I hired you. It's perfect! You have my full blessings."
"Whoa, wait, what?" Duo's thoughts ran into an abrupt wall and he quickly backpedalled. "Uh, Quat… okay, I admit that he's hot, but anyone with eyes and probably even those without can tell that he's hot! I'm just not sure –"
"Duo." Quatre's voice was like steel, and it halted Duo in his tracks, eyes wide. Blue eyes pinned him. "Please do not waste my time denying that you like him."
"Uh…" Duo squirmed. "The thing is… that is…" He looked desperately to Trowa and Heero – or to where they had been. There was no one else in the carpeted corridor.
"Trowa's bringing Heero to the ballroom, it's just the two of us." Quatre advanced on Duo, who for the first time realised how terrible a feeling it was to be a mouse looking up at a cobra towering over it with coils spread and fangs bared. "You like him, and I know you can tell that he likes you more than he likes most people, which is saying something. So what's the problem?"
Duo squeezed his eyes shut. It helped, but only a little. There was nothing to do but to surrender, and he found himself saying quickly, "I like him but I'm not sure I want to get into a relationship with him and I'm not sure he's ready for it and I don't want to ruin our hard-earned progress and I don't think he likes me back anyway!"
There was a horrible, long moment of silence. Duo's heart didn't even dare beat.
"Oh. Is that all?"
Duo's jaw dropped. His eyes flew open, and latched onto the image of an angelic Quatre, smiling a smug, indulgent smile at him. The blond even had the gall to pat him on the shoulder! "You two are awfully cute," Duo was informed. "It's going to be such fun watching you."
And then, to Duo's consternation, Quatre turned and sauntered down the corridor without another word.
He gaped, and then ran to catch up. "Wait – that's it? That's all?" he demanded.
"Of course." Quatre gave him an innocently puzzled look that Duo didn't trust one damn bit. "What else?"
"Well – you talked to Heero, for one, so I know you know things that I don't know!" Duo tried to keep the faint note of whining from his voice, and attempted to sound pitiful. "Come on, throw me a line here, I'm floundering in the deep end, you know how Heero can be –"
Quatre stopped before a set of doors, smiling affectionately at him, but that hint of steel was back. "Oh, I know how Heero can be, but the issue here, Duo – is it an issue with Heero, or do you have your own issues that you need to solve before you attempt to solve anyone else's?"
Duo just stared.
Quatre inclined his head in a little nod. "I thought so." And then the little devil opened the doors and stepped through. "Well?" he said over his shoulder. "Aren't you coming in? You don't know what table we're at, do you?"
Moving on autopilot, Duo stepped in after him. The noise of hundreds of decorous conversations washed over him, as an immediate sense of space hit him – the ballroom was at least three stories high, a Renaissance ceiling adding to the illusion of open space, supported (at least in design) by pillars that stretched forever. Drapes, gold and white and soft hues in between, hung everywhere to soften the room, and flowers lent bursts of colour and soft scents.
"Wow." The soft exclamation slipped out involuntarily. The artful beauty of the place had served to temporarily wash away all the thoughts furiously racing through his mind.
"Isn't it?" Quatre agreed, leading them through the table, smiling and nodding polite greetings to people he passed. No one stopped him to talk – it was nearing the official start of the dinner, Duo guessed, seeing how the majority of people were already seated or heading towards their seats, so probably the talk would come later.
"Don't think I've forgotten our conversation," Duo hissed, trying to sound intimidating.
"I don't know anything," Quatre said serenely. "And even if I did, I couldn't break any confidences, could I? Even if I had not been specifically entrusted with the aforementioned confidences, my own sense of honour would still keep me from breaking them, wouldn't it? Surely you would not ask a man to betray his friends' trust and his own honour."
Then they were at their table, and Duo suppressed the urge to exorcise the little bugger of a demon from Quatre's body as the others got up to greet them. Now I know how he turned Heero from pissed-off into sulking, Duo thought morosely to himself. Hell, I feel like a bit of sulking myself, if I weren't at this damn dinner. No wonder he's a business wonder before thirty, I'm just amazed he hasn't taken over the world yet.
"– my friend and Heero's new roommate," Quatre was saying. "Although he came at Relena's invitation."
Duo's social skills came to life on automatic as he came face to face with Relena for the second time – she was lovely in a tasteful pink silk gown, and he kissed the hand she offered for him to shake, making her laugh. "It's my honour to be invited by one of the prettiest politicians in town," he said solemnly, eyes dancing with laughter.
She fairly beamed at him. "It's my honour, Duo, to invite someone who could convince one of the most anti-social people in the country to come," she teased, but the glance she darted at Heero, who was finishing his own round of greetings, and the blush that accompanied it made the teasing a little bittersweet.
Not for the first time – and definitely not for the last – Duo reflected how perfect a couple Heero and Relena would make, standing side by side. The epitome of masculinity and the paragon of femininity.
Someone cleared his throat, and Duo let go of Relena's hand to meet the pale blue eyes of – he blinked – a damn good-looking man with silver-blond hair almost as long as his own. The stranger held out a hand for him to shake, which Duo took.
"Zechs Marquise," the man introduced himself. The handshake was firm, without any of the macho testing Duo had expected, before he let go. "Relena's brother."
Duo tilted his head, confused. "Ah…"
The other man smiled faintly. "Long story, though I'm surprised you don't know it. It's the Peacecraft bloodline that binds us." His smile became slightly more genuine. "It's rare to see hair like yours nowadays. I thought mine was one of a kind."
Duo had to grin. "You know, just for the hair, it's really good to meet you."
Relena laughed, covering it behind a delicately gloved hand. "When I met you, Duo, I just knew I had to introduce you to my brother!"
"Two good-looking men, both with hair longer and better than mine will ever be." The dry voice came from another woman with interesting forked eyebrows and one of the sharpest gazes Duo had ever seen. It bore through its recipient and analysed every atom. "Such a pity. No girl should ever date a man prettier than she is, and the same principle, I believe, applies to the hair."
"I think it's a chicken-and-egg question," Duo said amiably, letting that piercing gaze slide off his mask of charm and goodwill. "People with long hair learn to take care of it better, so, you know, milady, if you would care to grow yours out too, perhaps you will have the finest hair of us all."
She raised an eyebrow, but the first hint of a smile softened her sharp features. "Reserve the charm and the pet names for Relena, if you please. I have no wish to be associated with anything so demure."
"Oh, being ladylike doesn't equate to being demure. One can be a lady and be sweet, and one can be a lady and be strong. And of course, one can be a lady and be both, and more… milady." Duo gave her a little bow, but raised his head slightly to grin at her.
She was almost smiling back, though it was more of a smirk than anything. Amusement laced her voice as she said, "I'm Dorothy Catalonia. I think I'm going to enjoy getting to know you, Duo Maxwell." She gave him a little wave of her fingers. "If you'll excuse me, I don't think I'll be offering my hand to you in greeting."
Watching her head to her seat, Duo gave Relena and Zechs a cock-eyed grin. "Am I still in one piece?" he wanted to know.
Amidst the laughter of the table, Duo got introduced to the others – Iria Winner and her husband Wayne, who welcomed him warmly, and Edward Roberts, who, judging from the way he kept trying to speak to Dorothy (getting rebuffed each time with cutting remarks that caused Duo to be hard pressed to keep from laughing) was her rather unwanted escort for the night. Judging from the way Relena kept casting her frustrated little looks each time Dorothy snapped at the man, it wasn't the first time such an arrangement had happened.
Relena was at the head of their able, Heero to her left, Dorothy to her right (the poor woman was trapped between the unwanted Roberts and an insistent Relena). Duo was next to Heero, Trowa on his other side, Quatre on his side. Iria was understandably next to Quatre, between him and her husband. Zechs completed the circle.
Relena was invited to give some speech, being one of the biggest contributors to the charity the dinner was hosted for. Duo applauded politely as she went up, all too aware of the faint heat and the straight line of Heero's back, on his right. His conversations with Trowa and Quatre replayed themselves in his mind.
Damn. Weeks of agonising and he still couldn't decide what to do about one Heero Yuy and his own insane attraction to the man.
You two couldn't tear your eyes away from each other! I never thought I'd see the day when Heero would react to someone like that!
Quatre's words echoed, and suddenly the implication sank into Duo. He snuck a wide-eyed glance at Heero, who ignored him.
Heero had been staring at him, too?
Come to think of it… Heero's lack of response had been more than unusually lacking. Especially with all the headway Duo had made in helping him improving his conversational skills. There hadn't been any anger or anything like that either, which meant that the lack of response wasn't due to the remnants of yesterday's fiasco.
Could it be…?
Duo wished whole-heartedly that he knew what Quatre had said to Heero. All he needed was just one clue, just one tiny hint, that Heero could, you know… possibly, in some form, at some point in the future, in any way… like him back.
Because he'd sworn to himself, a long time ago, to never be so stupid as to fall for someone who would never love him back.
As Relena spoke in the background, Heero worked on getting his emotions and thoughts in order.
Duo was a magnetic presence next to him, and even if the other man didn't notice, Heero was all too aware of the many subtle admiring looks cast his way from the other tables. Hell, when he'd walked in with Relena, every female head in their path had turned to watch him go as he walked past them.
It had shocked Heero to the core when he'd realised that the burning feeling in his chest was jealousy.
It was the most absurd thing. He'd always been content with what he had, satisfied with what he did. He made enough to buy anything he wanted, and what he wanted had always been simple things, so he'd never had reason to covet anything that another person had. And one of the things he'd never wanted was someone else taking up room in his life, occupying his thoughts, invading his physical space. Trowa and Quatre and Wufei and the others were fine, because friends were necessary and even pleasant things to have when they knew their limits, and his friends did know the limits.
But Duo didn't.
Duo pushed, and cajoled, and teased, and wormed his way in with a cheerful grin and a stubborn streak a continent wide – and not a continent like Australia, but rather, say, Asia. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Duo had become much more than a mere friend.
Heero hated it.
Duo made him feel all sorts of new, ugly emotions: irrational anger, emotional hurt, jealously. Duo made him want things he couldn't even put a name to: shapeless yearnings, but growing stronger every day. Duo caused the things that had always satisfied him to become unsatisfactory.
He'd gone to Quatre's and laid into him, taking him to task for arranging the whole roommate thing and choosing someone so suspicious as Duo. He'd been in the middle of a list of all of Duo's faults, when Quatre had kicked him in the ankle "to shut you up", the blond had said with a glint in his eye.
That glint had been followed by one of the most painfully embarrassing and frustrating talks ever.
"You're sulking, you know," Trowa had told him conversationally when he'd run into his taller friend on the way back to his room in their mansion, after escaping from Quatre.
"Shut up," he'd replied intelligently.
But privately, he had to admit that he was, indeed sulking. Yet another new experience that he wasn't altogether happy with. Quatre had been right, though, as he always was – uncanny in his insight, sharp in his delivery. It had left Heero no room to argue, or to hide, and he'd had to face up to the truth.
He… liked… Duo.
It was why he'd gotten so furious and hurt when Duo had kept secrets from him, when he was perfectly fine with letting the other men he was friends with keep their secrets. It was why he'd been so bothered when his prank had worked too well, when he would normally have been more than smug to see a plan come to fruition. It was why he found things like Duo's remodelling his entire house amusing (though he'd never admit it, but he hadn't had to admit it for Quatre to point it out mercilessly), when he normally hated for people to touch his things without permission.
Heero could have happily gone on without ever facing up to the truth, but the confrontation with Duo had been the first time he'd been truly upset with the other man, and it had – with Quatre's help, of course – brought up all this shit that he'd successfully locked away.
That didn't mean that Heero was going to give in, though. Oh, no. Once he knew the problem, he could solve it. He'd planned to generally let things go back to the way they were before, and simply treat Duo like one of the other guys, making sure to keep a little distance. After all, emotions were fickle things, and Heero had never had problems tamping down on his emotions – anger, frustration, panic, fear, and so on. Taming his emotions so that they pointed the way but didn't lead him by the nose was, by now, a natural instinct. Odin had seen to that.
These new feelings were harder to handle, being new, but Heero was sure they could be handled the same way. After all, the other emotions he was used to could be almost overwhelmingly intense when they first surfaced, but once he took a step back, put a little distance between them and himself, then they faded away easily after a time. Hell, if he could resist the urge to kill Zechs every time, the emotions involving Duo had to be easy.
That plan had lasted all the way until he'd set eyes on Duo, tonight.
Duo was… beautiful.
No, beautiful was too trite a word. Gorgeous, perhaps. Yes, a strong word, an uncommon word: Duo was gorgeous. He was dazzling, stunning, incredible, and all those similar adjectives. Heero had seen Duo in the suit before, of course, but he hadn't really seen him. Buying the suit had been a decision-making process, objective, analytical, and Duo had looked uncomfortable all the way.
Tonight, though…
The suit clung perfectly to Duo's torso, his every limb. It fit him like a well-tailored second skin, and the dark grey tie lent a smokiness to his startling eyes. He had a model's proportions, and carried off the look so well that Heero couldn't help but feel that he ought to be paid for it. His posture, normally slightly slouched, was now straight, shoulders back, and the way he held himself made his shoulders broaden and his legs go on forever.
Gorgeous.
Heero hadn't been able to look away from Duo, drinking in the sight with a hunger he couldn't restrain. Duo in a formal suit, in a formal setting, hair held back in some elegant arrangement that was different from his normal simple braid, so that silk-soft lengths of it framed his face… was irresistible. And Heero, aware for the first time of his feelings for Duo, had suddenly seen him in a whole new light.
He didn't know why, but being aware of his feelings had caused him to be hyper-aware of Duo himself. He was hyper-aware of Duo's movements, his walk and his gestures; hyper-aware of Duo's laughter, his teasing, his voice; hyper-aware of the heat he radiated, in the seat by his side; hyper-aware of each blink, each darting movement of his tongue as he licked his lips…
Damn it!
That had been another new experience: his brain melting at the sight of Duo, his body reacting, so that the world faded around him but for the other man. He'd been aware of Duo speaking, but he hadn't been able to tell what was said, and he couldn't for the life of him remember what he'd answered. His brain had gone completely blank. It was completely unnerving, and Heero had been horrified at his lapse. He'd never been physically attracted to someone before, let alone so overwhelming an attraction. It was, frankly, a little terrifying.
Heero hated feeling out of place in his own skin, his own mind, but at the same time he knew he had no one to blame but himself.
So he sulked.
But discreetly.
And he didn't even want to begin thinking about the fact that most likely, Duo liked him too. His own feelings were complicated enough without factoring in Duo, who was one of the most complicated humans he'd ever met.
The conclusive tone to Relena's words triggered his brain, and Heero surfaced from his thoughts in time to clap along with the rest of the ballroom as she smiled, bowed, and descended from the stage. As he watched her glide back to their table, Heero regretted, not for the first time, that she was so infatuated with him. She was a beautiful, intelligent woman, and if she'd only get over her crush, Heero rather felt that she would make a good friend.
Of course, Relena believed that she was truly in love with him, but Heero knew better. Despite the interminable length, it was nothing more than a simple crush. She didn't know him at all, didn't act like herself when she was around him – how could their relationship be anything deep? From what he read, from what he saw, from what he'd observed of Trowa and Quatre's relationship – Relena had a crush on him, and that was all.
Heero became aware that Dorothy was trying to catch his eye, and he looked up. He raised an eyebrow as she looked at Duo, looked back at him, and then nodded minutely to Relena's seat and smirk.
He kept his eyebrow raised. What?
She rolled her eyes and indicated Duo with her eyes, then narrowed her eyes at him in a clear command.
Oh.
Relena returned to her seat. As she settled, she began to turn towards Heero, but Dorothy tapped her on the arm. "Relena," she said smoothly, "Did you see Paul Whitman? He asked me to discuss with you the possibility of an extension of the contract period, but as you know, we've already had several delays coming from his team and I simply don't think I want to trust his efficiency any longer…"
Heero sighed mentally. While he was grateful to Dorothy from engaging Relena, minimising the time he had to politely and discreetly discourage her star-struck overtures, he wasn't sure that the alternative was much better. What on earth was he supposed to say to Duo?
He subtly glanced at the man in question out of the corner of his eye. Trowa had pointedly turned to talk to Quatre in low tones, leaving Duo slightly stiff in his seat, as if hesitant to turn to Heero but at the same time uncomfortable in lonely silence.
Damn his interfering friends.
Heero turned to Duo, who looked back at him with slightly wide, surprised eyes, but with a hint of relief in them. "I… might have overreacted yesterday," he said cautiously, keeping his voice low so that the rest of the table couldn't hear. He was loathe to apologise outright – he wasn't entirely sorry for his outburst, anyway, because he was still somewhat angry that Duo persisted in keeping secrets from him.
Duo blinked, and then a relieved, sheepish grin broke on his face. "No, don't worry about it," he said quickly, though he spoke quietly to match Heero. "It was kinda my fault anyway. I'm just glad you aren't mad at me anymore."
Heero shrugged slightly. "I am," he said bluntly, "but I have gotten control over it."
Duo flinched. "Oh. Um." Those violet eyes lowered. "I'm… I'm sorry."
"Do not apologise if you do not mean to correct yourself, or the apology is meaningless. I am willingly to forget the entire episode, if you are." He hadn't meant to still sound so bitter, but now that the words had come out unbidden, he clenched his jaw and refused to take them back. Perhaps he could go back to his original plan: just forget it all, remain friends, never taking it further, and all these troublesome things would fade away.
But at that moment Duo raised his gaze again, and there was determination in it, tinged with slight apprehension, like he'd just made a big decision and was afraid of the consequences. "I do mean it," he said quietly. "And you were right. It isn't fair that I keep pushing you to open up to me when I'm keeping stuff from you. I don't want to be one of those hypocritical people, and… and you mean more to me than that." He took a deep breath. "When this dinner is over, maybe later, or maybe tomorrow… I'll tell you some things about me."
Heero felt a surge of ridiculously warm and happy feelings. He shoved them away. "You don't have to –" he began.
"I want to," Duo said firmly. He hesitated, and tried to smile, but it was shaky. "I just hope you'll still want me as a friend or even just a tenant, after what I have to say!"
It was meant to be a joke, Heero could tell, but he could also see that there was a part of Duo that really did fear that his secrets would change everything. The urge to reassure the other man was too strong to resist, and he looked away, a little embarrassed, as he said, "I do not believe that there is much that could make me turn against you."
The look in Duo's eyes, out of the corner of Heero's gaze, was too raw and too hopeful and too bright to bear. Uncomfortable with the sudden turn the conversation had taken, Heero leaned in towards Relena. Some part of him was always listening and watching everything going on around him, so he was able to interject, "Homer Greene will undercut you. You'd be safer with Paul Whitman, even."
Relena immediately turned to him, quickly latching on to the offered topic. Behind her shoulder, Dorothy gave Heero an annoyed, threatening Look. He returned it with a bland one of his own as he absently replied to Relena's question.
The dinner progressed through the soup and the appetizers, Heero keeping Relena on safe, business-related topics. Dorothy was arguing with Zechs over Roberts about the merits of fencing, the poor man between them lost but trying (and failing) to contribute. Iria and her husband were involved in a serious-looking three-way discussion with Quatre, speaking too softly (unlike a sharp-tongued Dorothy and a dismissive Zechs) for Heero to hear. Trowa and Duo were discussing, of all things, comic books. Heero could imagine it of Duo, but… Trowa? Huh.
He was glad that Duo could talk so easily to his friends, though. Having Duo included in his circle, having the others accept him so readily, was… pleasant.
God, he was so screwed.
Not yet you aren't.
Shut up.
It was during the main course that the individual conversations gave way to a group one. They talked for a while about the newest book craze, reminisced about some dying author or another, and then, as dessert arrived, turned to the topic of their favourite genres.
"Fantasy," Duo said decisively. "Definitely fantasy."
Zechs rolled his eyes. "All fantasy is a waste of time," he said.
"You just don't have the ability to understand its subtlety," Dorothy said with a smirk. "Mysteries, thrillers, horror… all other fictional genres are actually more removed from reality than fantasy is."
"Fantasy most closely mirrors our reality and the human condition," Quatre agreed, "by way of hidden analogy."
"Fantasy is the best way to convey an author's message," Duo put in. "Well-written fantasy draws you in so that the ideas in it become your own without you realising it. It shows and reveals, rather than hits you over the head. I hate books like that, no class, no elegance, no… no skill at all. Like that Album guy, wrote something about Thursdays?"
"Tuesdays with Morrie?" Iria suggested.
"Yeah, that." Duo grimaced. "God, what a preachy, self-indulgent piece of shit. I mean, the philosophies in it are all well and good, but it's so… trite, the way he does it. You can tell these things – lousy authors cheat by making use of death to make things all sentimental and dramatic. Terminal illnesses that give you time to appreciate how precious life is now that you're slowly dying, those are the most annoying to read about. Now, an author who can create poignancy without having to kill someone off? That's someone on the right track."
"But not many people have the time or patience to read things that are less subtle," Relena countered. "Books like Mitch Albom's are very simple, very direct, so that the general public can understand them." She quirked a smile. "I find that most people resist outside ideas unless you overdose them or make it so that there's no way, short of blinding themselves, they can miss it."
Quatre snickered. "Oh, so very true!" The conspiratorial grin he shared with Relena told them that the two of them had certain politicians and businessmen in mind.
"Still," Wayne said, his deep voice as gentle and cultured as his wife's, "I prefer things more grounded in reality, as they're easier to read. I'm one of those people with little patience or time to get involved in a world so unlike mine that I have to keep in mind all their differences. Mysteries and thrillers give me the same escapist outlet that fantasy can, but a more accessible outlet."
"Exactly! Such genres give you an insight into the human psyche, more so than fantasy." Zechs was gesturing animatedly, getting into his point. "It leads you through the paths of the human mind; it illustrates the dark and the light of human nature. It shows you what people are capable of and how they arrive there."
"It's like economics," Duo said thoughtfully.
Zechs paused, looking blank.
Heero snorted. "You're over-simplifying."
"No I'm not!"
"Thrillers are much more complicated than that. It can encompass –"
"Excuse me," Dorothy interrupted, eyebrow raised, "but could you two explain what on earth you're talking about?"
"What?" Duo said, puzzled. "We're still talking about genres, aren't we?"
Heero, quicker on the uptake, explained shortly, "It's an analogy. Macro- and micro-economics. Fantasy is macro: it illustrates the overall human condition. Thrillers are micro, they delve into the individual state of mind. At least, that is Duo's stand. I believe that while fantasy indeed tends to the macro aspect, thrillers encompass both the human condition and the private workings of a human mind."
"Yeah, right. Thrillers are all about murderers, or kidnappers, or, hmm, murderers." Duo rolled his eyes. "You don't get any variety –"
"You understood that from economics?" Roberts blurted, staring between Heero and Duo.
Quatre was smiling that damned smile of his again, while Trowa was smirking. Duo blinked. He'd gotten so used to Heero being able to follow his admittedly wacky reasoning that he'd forgotten that others didn't have the same ability. The thought made him all warm and gooey inside, and he felt a blush rising.
"Um…"
"You know, that's a good analogy, Duo," Quatre said, tactfully directing the conversation back on track and away from more personal paths. "But Heero's right, I'm not a fan myself, but some thrillers must be given their due."
Zechs pounced on the help. "Quatre's right, it's just like any genre, you have the good and the bad authors."
"If Dan Brown's popularity is any example –"
"Dan Brown? Heaven forbid." Zechs waved a hand dismissively. "He's the thriller version of Mitch Album –"
"Albom –"
"Albom, yes, thank you… Roberts." Zech's hesitation over the man's name was brief, and he dived right back in again. "Dan Brown is interesting in a simple-minded way, that's all. You should try the real authors, there's not as much fuss made about them, but any reader worth his salt will know the names: Stephen Hunter, Lee Child, Robert B. Parker, Robert Crais, Vince Flynn –"
"Now you've done it," Heero muttered to a bemused, staring Duo. Trowa, Quatre, Dorothy and Relena had long-suffering looks on their faces, and the rest who were less familiar with Zechs looked as bemused as Duo was. "Zechs has a hero-against-the-world complex. He'll force his books on anyone near enough."
"– Nelson DeMille, Jack Higgins, John Clarkson, though he's less well-known, but still good, and, damn, pardon me, stop glaring, Relena…" Zechs leaned in, eyes alight. "I can't believe I didn't mention Hale O'Reilly right off the bat!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Duo noticed Heero choke a little.
"He's an amazing author; he sets the bar higher than even the classic authors like Ian Fleming – that's the James Bond creator. His descriptions are so real you can feel it happening to you, and his knowledge is the most extensive I've seen. It's like he's lived the experiences he write about in his book. He writes so well – language, plot, characterisation – that you'd believe that these things really happened, and he was a witness to it all, or even a part of it all."
"Really," Duo said. Out of the corner of his other eye, he saw Trowa and Quatre try to conceal knowing, amused little smirks.
"I can give you a lot of examples… let's see… there was this one scene involving a decaying rat, and the description was so real that you imagine the rank smell and the clumping fur –"
"Zechs…"
A decaying rat? Why did that sound so familiar?
"– and the protagonist ingeniously used the state of its decay to deduce –"
"Zechs." Relena's tone brooked no argument, and her brother turned to look at her. She gave him a severe, half-embarrassed, half-disgusted look. "In case you haven't noticed," she said, "we are having dinner. Please reign in your enthusiasm for nausea-inducing images."
The blond-haired man sighed, and settle back into his seat. "Of course." He inclined his head to the rest of the table, suddenly all poise and elegance again. "Pardon me. I was too caught up in my enthusiasm and got a little carried away." He looked at Duo and smiled. "You know, don't take my word for it – if you'd like, you could come to my apartment another day, and I could lend you a couple of O'Reilly books."
Duo hadn't expected the offer, and it caught him off-guard. On one hand, the books did sound interesting, but on the other hand the look in Zechs' eyes hinted at an invitation concerning things much more intimate than books, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to encourage it. "Well –"
"There is no need." Heero's voice was flat, though there was a trace of something sharp in it that Duo couldn't quite make out. "I have copies."
Zechs raised a politely disbelieving eyebrow. "You read?"
Somehow, in Duo's mind, that innocuous statement sounded more like, You know how to read? than You read thrillers?
Surely Zechs had meant the second one, right?
Heero's reply was cool and equally polite, but his eyes had narrowed slightly and from the almost imperceptible set of his body, Duo realised that Heero really, really disliked Zechs. "I have amassed a wide range of books over the years. I well appreciate the variety of knowledge that can be gleaned from each genre and so do not limit myself to any particular one."
Ouch.
It seemed that the feeling was mutual. If Zechs raised his nose any higher, his chair would have to tip over to accommodate the anatomical impossibility of the angle of his neck. "Ah, quantity over quality, I see. It must be nice being a jack-of-all-trades, without the burden of dipping beneath the surface and thinking deeply."
Duo could make out the clenching of Heero's fists under the table. "I find," Heero said, icily polite still, "that if one has the proper ability and puts in the slightest effort, it is possible to read both widely and deeply. Anyone limited to only one of the two options is sadly lacking in vital areas, and I pity the literary wealth that he – or she, of course – will miss out on."
That was a nice touch. 'Or she' – hah! Good one!
Quiet! Duo was too fascinated to pay attention to the bunny's return. Don't distract me, Heero's winning!
"Alas, I find that my time is taken up by events and obligations more grounded in reality than literature," Zechs replied. "I have a great number of people who I interact with and a great deal of vital projects to work on, and so I have developed the ability to discern the most worthwhile of books from the common masses and so spend my time wisely reading only those. "
That was low! The bunny was hopping around in agitated fury. The bastard!
I know! Duo bit the inside of his cheek to keep from growling. Any and all goodwill towards Zechs vanished in an instant. How dare he insinuate that Heero has no friends to 'interact' with? How dare he suggest that Heero wastes his time and his life away on non-'vital' things?
Heero was fairly radiating killer intent. He opened his mouth, and Duo, fearing what would come out, quickly said, "You know, this cake is simply scrumptious –"
"Oh, look, the band's in place, I should probably go –" Relena said at the same time.
"Isn't that Noin over there, I think she's looking for you, Zechs –" Quatre began.
There was a moment where the world went, Huh?
Heero closed his mouth. Zechs lowered his chin.
Everyone stared at one another.
Then Heero silently passed Duo his cake. "Here," he muttered. "I dislike sweet things."
"Uh…" Duo looked down at the plate. "Thanks?"
Relena coughed lightly. "Well!" she said brightly. "I was asked to be one of the pairs to start the dance, so…" She cast Heero a sideways glance, blushing a little. "I should probably venture onto the dance floor soon, the others are already making their way there."
Duo felt his heart constrict, but he knew that he could do no less than to say: "If you don't mind, milady, I nominate Heero as your dance partner. The man's sitting next to you, he's got to be good for something."
The glare Heero shot him could have castrated something, but there was also… confusion in it as well? Duo managed to keep smiling as he leaned in and whispered, "You in a public forum attempting to dance – I've got to see it. Take this as my revenge for the mirror thing."
Heero's expression became less… poisonous. His gaze bore into Duo's for a moment. Then he closed his eyes briefly, as if praying for strength, and when he stood there was nothing but polite neutrality on his face. He offered his arm to Relena wordlessly. Relena, for her part, didn't press his silence, and simply accepted the gesture with a radiant smile.
Damn, but she really is beautiful.
Duo found himself repressing an urge to leap up and tear the two of them apart. It was hard.
From his seat, Zechs rose as well, a smilingly polite expression on his face. "I was invited to lead, as well," he said to the table in general. "Please excuse me, Noin is waiting."
The girl Zechs was looking at was seated at a table behind Duo, which meant that Zechs had to walk past him to approach her. Of the two targets of Duo's powerless jealousy and general annoyance and anger at the situation, Relena was the untouchable one, which left…
As Zechs walked past, a quick slight-of-hand trick slid one of the slippery velveteen napkins (more for appearances than anything, Duo figured, because the cloth was simply impractical) beneath Zech's next step.
The man went flying.
It was such a beautiful moment that tears almost came to Duo's eyes. It was classic! It was superb! It ought to be immortalised in bronze! Zechs' long hair flew upwards, tangling in itself. His legs left the ground at a most awkward angle, kicking up into the air. His mouth opened, forming around a girlish yelp. His arms flailed in inelegant circles. His expression – oh, his expression, that initial second of incomprehension, that dawning horror, that bug-eyed fish-gaping red-mottling horror!
He landed with a loud thud in the midst of a growing circle of silence. Another little yelp-squeak emerged.
Duo thought he was going to rupture all his internal organs trying not to laugh hysterically out loud. He caught sight of Quatre trying desperately to change an attack of laughter into a more politically correct expression of concern, but failing horribly. Trowa wasn't even bothering to try; his hand covered his face and what was probably a shit-eating grin, judging by the shaking of his shoulders. Dorothy was doing a slightly better job than Quatre at hiding her amusement, but her lips kept twitching upwards.
Relena looked sincerely torn between laughing and worry, as was the other girl – Noin, wasn't it? – who came running forward as Relena let go of Heero's arm to go to her brother. Zechs refused her hand, climbing painfully to his own feet, completely red with embarrassment. Relena murmured something to him, and he muttered a reply.
Duo watched all this out of the corner of his eye, though. His gaze was reserved for Heero.
First, there was, like Zechs, an initial second of incomprehension, as he looked back to see what the commotion was. Then – a flash of understanding, a rising amusement, a little vindictive glee, but above all, pure, utter delight at a trick well played. Duo hadn't been sure Heero would understand what had happened, but he hadn't given him enough credit – one glance and Heero knew.
Bluest of blue eyes locked onto his, and there was so much warmth and laughter in them that Duo stopped breathing, and could only grin ridiculously back. Heero's expression was the softest he'd ever seen, faint smile, crinkled eyes and all. This was even better than the time he broke down and laughed in Codfish's, because this time, the mirth was all reserved for him, Duo – just between the both of them.
That was when Duo, too, knew.
In the next heartbeat, Heero's face was schooled into a neutral expression – no one would have believed concern of him, so he chose the next best thing. There was no hint of the amusement that had been so prominent just now, save for the glitter in his eyes. As Zechs got himself sorted out and Relena returned to Heero, he once more offered her an arm, and off they went. Relena never got the slightest glimpse of that other expression of Heero's.
Which was good, because she would have fallen so deeply for him that Duo would have had to kill her. Not, of course, that he had any idea how; that was Heero's forte. But he would have tried his damned best.
Because what Duo knew, now, was that he was already in love with Heero Yuy.
Even if he hadn't been, that expression would have clinched it. Hell, he'd bet even Zechs would have been at the very least struck dumb for a couple of seconds or so, and that was saying something, after that display of virulent antagonism. Heero's expression was like watching the sun come up on the first day after the Ice Age and feeling it melt all the ice around you; even Zechs would have had to bow down to it.
So much for not falling in love first.
Duo wasn't even aware that he had half-risen from his seat to go after Heero and Relena – to do what? He didn't even know, himself – until the grip on his arm tightened, alerting him to its presence. He looked down and followed the hand to Trowa, who shook his head minutely, a look akin to sympathy in his solemn gaze. Quatre's expression, behind his shoulder, was a mixture of empathetic pain and guilt and delight.
With a sigh, Duo turned to Zechs, who had, after offering his arm to Noin, stopped behind his chair. As Trowa released him, Duo put on an innocent, apologetic, worried expression. "I'm really sorry," he said, contrite. "I didn't realise my napkin had fallen."
Zechs eyed him for a second, and then smiled, though it was a little forced. "Don't worry about it," he said. "The things are slippery, aren't they?" He nodded to the woman on his arm. "This is Lucrezia Noin, my sister in all but blood."
Duo smiled at her. She had spunk in her, he could tell: a glint in her eye, the cropped hair. "Lovely to meet you, Lu –"
"Call me Noin," the woman said hastily. "Lucrezia sounds like some island country, I don't know what my parents were thinking."
He had to laugh. "Well then, Noin – it's lovely to meet you."
"Likewise," she said, grinning back.
Zechs cleared his throat. "Shall we?" he said.
Noin rolled her eyes. "Yes, yes, lead me off to my doom."
They walked off, bickering softly. Shaking his head in amusement, Duo sat down again, but his smile quickly faded when he saw Heero on the dance floor, Relena in his arms and looking blissful.
"There is nothing between them," Trowa murmured on his left.
Duo was pretty sure he wasn't talking about Zechs and Noin. He gave Trowa a half-smile. "I know. She just wishes there is."
"So you do like him, then?" Quatre asked tentatively. They were the only ones left – Dorothy had been unable to refuse an invitation to dance from Roberts, and Iria was of course already dancing with Wayne.
Duo sighed heavily. He had admitted it to himself, so why not? "Yeah," he said, reluctantly. "I guess I do."
Quatre looked like he'd been handed a pile of presents, and it wasn't even Christmas or his birthday. He reached over Trowa with a happy little sound to give Duo a brief hug. "That's great! I knew it!"
"If you knew, you didn't need to ask," Duo pointed out dryly.
"I know, but you needed to answer it."
Duo didn't know whether to laugh or to kick the insufferably astute blond. Trowa intervened, tactfully. "What will you do now?" he asked.
"I have no idea." Duo shrugged, putting on a sheepish grin that hid the chaotic emotions in him. "The guy's a rock! But we've agreed to have a good talk tonight –" he conveniently left out the fact that he'd be the one doing most of the talking, or that the talk was definitely not about what he was leading them to believe, "– and I figure I'll take it from there."
Quatre nodded eagerly. "I'm really glad you're giving Heero a chance, Duo," he said, big blue eyes hopeful. "Be patient with him, please? And I want you to know that we'll always be here if you need us, me and Trowa and Wufei."
Duo rolled his eyes. "You and Trowa really are a couple, you even repeat the same lines."
"That's because we both mean it," Quatre said sternly. "Duo, promise me you'll call whenever you need a friend." Seeing Duo's hesitation, he narrowed his eyes. Duo would swear that shadows gathered around him. It was like being mauled by a kitten with really sharp claws and really big fangs – he was absolutely adorable and utterly terrifying at the same time. "Promise me."
"I promise," Duo's traitorous mouth squeaked.
"Great!" Quatre was suddenly all sunshine and smiles again, and Duo reinforced his mental note to never get on his bad side. "We've got to have lunch together soon – oh, we could make it a weekly event! I'm sure you could convince Heero, it'll be wonderful to have the five of us gather together again –"
"Perhaps," Trowa said in all seriousness, "we should make it a private event. At someone's house. With minimal neighbourly presence."
As Quatre flushed, remembering his part in their little escapade, Duo cracked up laughing.
He'd enjoy the rest of the evening, he decided, watching Quatre get teased until he was blushing furiously by a straight-faced, deadpan Trowa. The two of them were the adorable ones, really. He would enjoy this dinner, because afterwards…
No matter what, things would never be the same again.
Wow… this was a really long chapter, wasn't it? I just realised it's 9000 plus words, nearing 10,000! Gosh. That's the length of 48 Hours.
And so soon after the last one too! Maybe my muses really are coming back.
And while the last line sounds dramatic, I have a feeling the next chapter is going to be very anticlimactic. After all that build-up, too… I don't think I can pull it off properly, but I'll try anyway. Apologies in advance for any let-downs in the next chapter.
Apologies for the excessive internal debating in this chapter, too! It probably was a little draggy.
Ashen Skies
"So he sulked. But discreetly."