"The Neon Spectrum"

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing, it belongs to Bandai, Sotsu and associated parties. Written for pleasure not profit.

Rating:

Warnings: Angst! Drama! Hurt/Comfort elements! Language! Sexual confusion/identity crisis! Gender identity crisis! Homophobia! Transphobia! Violence (non-explicit)! SEX (explicit)! Minor Dom/Sub Dynamic (honestly so mild it might not even be worth mentioning)!

Pairings: 2x1, 3x4

Summary: Duo finds out life isn't black and white when he realizes he's in love with his gay roommate. But Heero has no interest in dating a 'straight' man while he struggles with his own identity.

AN: This story explores the sexuality spectrum as well as the gender spectrum. That means this story includes a Gender-Bending/Genderqueer/Gender-Fluid/Non-Binary Gender Identity character (read: feminization and crossdressing). If that is not something you are open to, please skip this story.

If you decide to read this story, please remember that the featured characters are individuals and are not written to represent an entire group of people. I'm not making any statements on what it means to be queer or gender queer. Neither sexuality nor gender identity can be generalized across people – it's different for everyone – and this story is about the experiences of two individuals. I don't mean any disrespect, to anyone, and I hope I've handled the subject with the sensitivity that it deserves.

Beta: Shima Yi (Thanks so much for doing this!)

"The Neon Spectrum"

The Neon Spectrum

Not limited to black and white.

Not dulled to shades of gray.

The spectrum is neon.

Chapter TWO - Waiting For the Other Sock To Drop

It was the night of the party and Heero was already there. As the guest of honor, Quatre insisted that he be there early to greet every guest. Duo went a little later; first, he had to pick up Hilde so they could share the cab fare - it was like a sixty-dollar ride, because she absolutely did not want to go on the back of his motorcycle.

The Uber waited in front of her apartment building, five minutes after the exact time they had agreed on. Duo had his cellphone to his ear, waiting for her to pick-up, but there was no answer. "I'm sure she'll be down any minute," he told the driver, who refused to pause the meter as they waited. The American felt his face get hot at the thought of being stood up by his only straight friend, being left to face the party alone. Relief washed over him when the front door of the building opened and Hilde appeared. He scooted over so she could get in on the backseat from the door at the curb.

He pocketed his phone and remarked: "Wow, that is a very sparkly dress." Hilde was wearing a champagne colored, fully sequined mini dress, with sheer, sparkly fabric covering the chest up to the collarbone, creating barely-there sleeves.

"Honey, it's a gay birthday party - sparkles were invented for this."

"Alright, but why did have to be so short?" Duo countered, his gaze distracted by the sight of her creamy thighs. "Pretty much every guy there will be gay."

"Hence, I have to work extra hard to make them look," she replied smugly, and then prodded his side with her elbow, causing him to laugh. "If any of those guys even have a tiny smidge of straight in them, I'm going to bring it out."

"Then you shouldn't have worn the sparkles," he deadpanned. "It's not sexy; it's fabulous."

She stuck her tongue out between her plum-colored lips, then she nodded at the small, wrapped gift box in his lap. "What did you get him? Something I can get in on?"

Duo made a face. "Trust me, you don't want to be in on this."

"Why not? Is it that bad?"

"It's socks."

She let out a sudden laugh but then quieted herself. "Sorry... I guess I was wrong. I guess you really are completely straight."

Duo forced on a smile but then quickly looked out the window. He didn't tell her that he had made a last-minute switch. Hidden under his bed, in an elegant box from Tom Ford, was a wine-colored cashmere scarf that he first wanted to give him, but decided against it. It had been the only thing in the entire store he could afford, and even then, it was far too expensive to give as a gift to a guy who only invited him to his birthday out of pity and duty.

The driver made up for lost time, and they arrived at the party precisely on schedule: fashionably late, just as planned. The butler let them in and Quatre was the first to greet them.

"Oh my God - Hilde, you look fabulous!" He exclaimed and he excitedly kissed her on the cheek.

"Told you so," Duo muttered, suppressing a chuckle.

"Quatre wasn't really my target audience," she retorted.

The blond in question wondered innocently: "What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," the two friends said in unison and exchanged a mischievous look.

"Where's the birthday boy? I thought greeting guests was his duty?" Duo asked.

"Heero is at the bar... he's a little drunk." Quatre couldn't have looked more displeased, which implied Heero was more than a little drunk.

"Already?" Duo checked his watch. "It's like nine-thirty."

"He got an early start." The host dropped the attitude and shared in a soft tone: "His boyfriend broke up with him today."

"On his fucking birthday?!" Duo erupted.

"Duo!" Quatre shushed him. "Don't make a big deal about it. He doesn't want to talk about it. So just go in, give him your present and have fun; drink, dance, please. I've had three sleepless nights over planning this party; at least one of my best friends should get to enjoy it." He was called over by the kitchen staff and left Duo and Hilde standing alone in the hallway.

"What a fucking asshole!" Duo bellowed, not caring that the guests within earshot were giving him looks.

"Give him a break; Quatre means well."

"I'm not talking about Quatre," he snapped. When he looked at her face, he could tell she had only been trying to make a joke to calm him down. "What a fucking piece of shit," Duo carried on. "Who does that? Who breaks up with someone on their birthday?"

"An asshole," Hilde conceded.

Duo looked down at his gift - his lame, cheap gift - and growled at himself. "And I'm standing here with a fucking dumb birthday present to boot."

"Duo, it's not your job to save his birthday. Let's just go in, okay?"

They headed into the crowd of people, drinking and laughing and dancing to the muffled beat of the DJ's music from a few rooms over. Soon he spotted Trowa - the man was taller than anyone else - and he waved him over.

"Can you point us to the bar?" Duo asked.

"It's in the grand dining room."

"You go," Hilde said. "Go check on Heero. I'm going to dance with this tall glass of water." Her way of giving him privacy with his non-friend. Trowa smirked and gladly guided her to the dance floor.

Duo's heart was a brick at the bottom of his gut as he headed for the dining room. He slowed his steps, stalling to give himself more time to rehearse what he was going to say...but there was nothing clever he could say. It frustrated him that he didn't know Heero well enough to know how to offer him comfort, except get him a gallon of ice cream. Arriving in the dining room, he didn't see his roommate. A handsome man tended to the temporary bar set-up in the dining room, but none of the people he was serving drinks were Heero. He leaned over the bar and flagged down the bartender.

"What can I get you, sir?"

"Supposedly there was a guy sitting at the bar all this time?" Duo wondered. "Short, messy brown hair, blue eyes but Asian face?" It felt a little wrong to use race to describe someone, but he knew Heero was unforgettable and unmistakable with that combination of features; if he wanted to find him, he had to be specific, or else he would be pointed to any number of guys with stylishly carefree hair, and blue eyes that were dull in comparison to Heero's.

"Oh yeah, he took his drink upstairs with a friend. You just missed him."

"Thanks." Duo wasn't sure if he should follow Heero up there. If he was with a friend, he might interrupt a personal conversation. But it was important to him to show Heero his support; he didn't feel like joining the party without Heero, and without his straight wing-woman, with the way some of the guys were ogling him. It's the damn braid, he thought to himself.

Knowing his way around the house - like he figured Heero did too - he went up to the second floor using the out-of-the-way staircase in the kitchen. It led him up to a long hallway of doors - all guest bedrooms and bathrooms. All the doors were closed except one, which was left ajar. He adjusted his grip on his present; it was a pathetic, stupid present, but perhaps it stood a chance at bringing a smile to his face. At least he knew Heero well enough to know how to make him smile - laugh even - or so he liked to believe.

He straightened his jacket - as if it mattered - and walked up to the second guest bedroom to the right. He was about to softly knock on the door to announce his presence, when the bed appeared in his line of sight - he froze in the doorway.

Heero lay down on the bed, clothes still on his body but in complete disarray. On top of him - and between his spread legs - was his attentive "friend," with his hands all over the lithe body of Duo's roommate, non-friend and non-crush. They kissed deeply and hungrily; the "friend" thrust his pelvis against Heero's, in that rhythm everyone instinctually knows. They moaned loudly at the friction created by their dry-humping. It was obvious both were drunk and completely uninhibited; Duo never saw Heero like that.

It wasn't so much the sight that stopped Duo dead in his tracks; he had accidentally walked in on similar scenes - or worse - before. It was the thought that popped into his head:

Well, if that's what he needed to feel better, I could've done that too. It was supposed to be a quiet, sarcastic joke to himself, like he could make a joke about anything. But it wasn't a joke - that much was evident in the way his pants got tight in the front.

The shame of his voyeurism finally caused Duo to softly step back until he was out of earshot. He then hurried back down the stairs, into the noisy kitchen where staff was frantically trying to get the next batch of h'ordeuvres ready on time. He bumped into a waitress that appeared out of nowhere and was mortified that she might've felt his erection. He apologized profusely and got the Hell out of there.

Hilde had made her way to the bar and was flirting with the bartender. She found the one guy that wasn't just partly straight; he was wholly straight and he was loving her short, tight dress and dark lips. Duo walked up to her, grabbed her arm and yanked her to a relatively quiet corner.

"Hey!"

"You were right," He blurted, exasperated.

"About what, honey?"

"I want... 'more' with Heero."

She flashed him a bright smile. "Well that's great, and pretty good timing too. Go get 'em."

"I can't; he's dry-humping with some other guy."

She snickered. "Right now?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, not so good timing."

"I walked in on them and I was watching them and... I got hard. And I think I just accidentally molested a waitress..."

"Sounds like you've had quite the night," she joked with a gentle chuckle. Recognizing his distress, she suggested they should just head back home.

They had an Uber pick them up; the car dropped off Hilde first and then Duo, but he didn't want to be alone in the apartment. He walked around the streets aimlessly for an hour before deciding to make good use of his moping around, and headed for a 24/7 grocery store a few blocks from the apartment. He went home to the dark apartment, but when he flicked on the lights, the unexpected figure seated on the couch scared the shit out of him. He flinched and nearly dropped one of the two bags.

"It was my turn to do groceries this weekend," Heero said flatly.

"I know, but I figured-" He didn't finish his sentence.

"I didn't see you at the party."

He had trouble not making a snide comment about Heero slinking off to be manhandled by one of his friends in the guest bedroom, on the night he was dumped. He knew Heero had a routine in between boyfriends to satisfy his sexual urges; he just didn't know it was quite so efficient. "I was there, but-" Another unfinished sentence.

"You heard, huh?"

"About your break-up, yeah." Duo walked the groceries to the kitchen and put the bags on the counter. "I'm sorry. That was a really shitty thing of him to do."

Heero nodded. "I didn't even see it coming. Usually I see it coming - I get my ice cream and I prepare for it... I don't know why I didn't see it coming," he rambled.

Duo smiled; he dug deep into one of the grocery bags and produced a big tub of ice cream. His roommate's eyes widened at the surprise.

"It's Rocky Road, I hope that's not too much on the nose." Duo got a bowl from the cabinet and scooped up a large serving of ice cream.

"Thank you," Heero said as he gratefully accepted the treat.

"It was only fair. I finished the Chocolate Marshmallow." He put the tub in the freezer, then grabbed a beer for himself and joined Heero on the couch. "So, what did the asshole say?"

"He said we were 'too different,' and that I wasn't mature enough for him - that I'm too 'all over the place'."

Duo quirked an eyebrow.

"I cooked for him. I cooked for him." Heero snorted. "I'm fucking twenty-six years old. I'm not just mature - I'm old."

"Hold up, I don't accept that," Duo argued. "I can't concede that you're old at twenty-six. At twenty-nine, what does that make me?"

"Let's hope wiser, then at least I still have something to look forward to," The Japanese man muttered into his bowl.

Wiser? Like only just now figuring out: hey, guys are hot too? "Nope, sorry."

Heero glared at him. "Thanks... is that your idea of a birthday present: crushing my last remaining hope?"

"Actually, I got you present." Duo regretted it as soon as he said it.

The other straightened up, a child-like excitement in his hazy eyes. "You did?"

With an I'm-nearly-thirty-groan, Duo bounced up from the couch and retrieved the present that he had tucked into one of the grocery bags. He could feel the warmth on his face as he handed his roommate the gift and sat back down. Heero put aside the bowl, adding to Duo's guilt. He pulled the bow apart and ripped open the package paper where the ends were taped together. The cardboard box was opened and Heero appraised his gift: socks. Not just any socks - novelty socks.

"I'm sorry," Duo said preemptively.

"'I'm old'..." Heero read aloud the text that was embroidered into the wool items. "... 'life socks.'"

Duo was about to apologize again, feeling mortified. On the evening when he came to terms with the possibility that he had a unique crush on his same-sex roommate, he gave said-crush the worst birthday present ever. But then Heero erupted in laughter. It was mostly thanks to his inebriated state, but Duo felt relieved nevertheless.

"You're so fucking straight," Heero said, once his giggles had subsided.

Oh, the irony. "I'm sorry. It's just a stupid joke. Obviously, you're not old."

"No, no, of course not. Because if I'm old that'd make you-"

"Ancient," he supplied, making Heero laugh again. "So, what did you tell the Asshole," Heero had been dating the guy for over a month, but Duo didn't even know his name; he supposed it didn't matter anymore - he was just "the Asshole" now, "after he broke up with you on your birthday?"

"I punched him."

Duo's mouth dropped; in response to his disbelief, Heero showed him his right fist: the knuckles were a little red. "You punched him."

"There was no point in being 'mature' about it." Heero reached for the bowl and finished his ice cream.

"Heero, as your friend, I must tell you: physical violence is never the answer."

"You're not my friend," the other informed him, without even looking at him.

To be dismissed in such an off-hand manner stung, but Duo tried to stay lighthearted. "Alright, then as your non-friend I'll say: good for you."

The Japanese man smirked.

Maybe he should have let it slide - like he had done so many times before over the past four years - but he couldn't, not anymore. "Heero, why aren't we friends?" He decided to rephrase: "Why don't you want to be friends?"

"You're straight," Heero said, as if that answered Duo's question; the American was only confused. "I don't befriend straight guys. It doesn't work."

Duo scoffed at his surprisingly ignorant viewpoint. Leaving the issue of him being 'straight' or not out of it for the moment, he countered: "What are you talking about? I've been best friends with Quatre since I was a teenager."

"Maybe your friendship with Quatre is the exception to the rule."

"And what about us? We've been roommates for four years, and we get along great."

"Yeah," he readily agreed, his tone a little impatient, "let's keep it that way."

"I think that's bullshit."

"Well, maybe you are an exception to the rule, but you are not an exception to my rule. Straight guys make me uncomfortable."

Duo let out a bitter laugh. "You do get how twisted that is, right? Haven't we, as a species, evolved to a point where gay guys don't make straight guys uncomfortable and vice versa? We're all the same."

Heero straightened up as he took offense to Duo's remark. Heatedly, he argued: "Oh, you are so fucking naïve, Duo. You think because you have pretty long hair and hang out with a lot of gay guys, you know what it's like to actually be gay?"

Duo shrugged; he wanted to say yes, even though that hadn't been his point, but Heero's tone scared him. Heero never raised his voice at him like that before.

"You don't know shit, Duo. If a guy on the street makes a shit comment about your faggy hair and your faggy friends, you get to laugh at him because he's wrong and it never hits home. But when - for example - your coworker at the shop mock-catcalls me and simulates a blowjob by pressing his tongue into his cheek, and his friend makes this 'gross' face, to which he says: 'What? That's all they're good for,' I get to go about the rest of my day feeling like a degraded piece of ass!"

Duo swallowed; he had heard Jamie whistle at him, but he was unaware of the rest of the exchange. "But... things are better now, and they're getting better every day." They were getting way off-track.

Heero made a face. "That whole ordeal about getting the right to marry has only put a target on our backs. People are still assholes, Duo, and you have no fucking clue."

"But I'm not like that! I'm not an asshole." Right?

"It's just my rule, okay? Drop it." He shot up from the couch and stormed off. Seconds later, Duo heard his bedroom door slam shut.

Well shit. If Heero didn't even want to be friends with someone who had been straight all his life, regardless of recent epiphanies, it was safe to assume he wouldn't be open to "more" than friendship either.

The next morning Duo was a wreck. He hadn't gotten much sleep; every time he closed his eyes, he saw Heero laying sprawled on that guest bed, but the man on top of him was Duo himself. He waited by the coffee machine as it brewed a pot of much needed strong caffeine, dressed in his boxers and a t-shirt. His disheveled braid was draped over his shoulder. He imagined dark circles underneath his eyes.

Heero didn't look much better when he stepped into the kitchen. "Mind if I get in on that?" He nodded at the coffee pot.

"When it's done brewing, there will be plenty to share." Duo's tone was petulant. The more he thought about it, the more Heero's attitude from the previous night irked him. Why should he be brushed off because other straight guys had been assholes to Heero in the past? He wasn't responsible for other people's narrowmindedness, so he shouldn't be punished for it, and he also shouldn't be punished for Heero's narrowmindedness.

"I'm sorry I was such a cunt last night," Heero said.

The apology was completely unexpected, but welcome. Still, Duo contained his smile and replied gruffly, watching the pot like a hawk: "You got dumped on your birthday; I think there is some leeway allowed." He used that harsh word - dumped - on purpose. He was being really childish.

"I'm not sorry about the point I was making," Heero clarified, "but I should have expressed myself differently. I was drunk and... 'cunty'. It's just my rule."

"I get it."

"No please, let me try to explain this the right way, without the cunty-ness." Heero took a step towards him, and for the first time since they started living together, Duo felt that the kitchen was too small for the two of them. Heero was too close - too close!

He crossed his arms in front of his chest defensively. "Okay."

"I didn't mean to make you feel like I hate you, because you're straight. I like you and you're right: we do get along well."

Duo's foolish heart fluttered at the kind words.

"I like spending time with you in the apartment, but I don't want us to be friends," his roommate continued, "because I don't want to go out to a movie together, or have drinks and have people stare at us and make comments and not have a wingman - a gay wingman, someone who really understands. I know it would make me feel very alone, and I know that's not on you - that's my issue. A while ago, you talked about people having a certain idea of you and wanting to prove them wrong?"

Duo nodded.

"Well, growing up as an army brat, I was surrounded by a lot of macho-ignorance; and when I got older and things started being obvious-" He gestured down at himself and Duo assumed that the "things" he was talking about were his slender frame and his unorthodox, effeminate fashion - like the incredibly short boy-shorts he slept it - "... let's just say it wasn't fun. I got this idea about the world, about those macho straight men, and they haven't proven me wrong. I mean, sometimes they do, but then someone else comes along that proves me right again. I've gotten hurt so many times, I just want to do whatever I can to protect myself - hence, my rule." He looked up at him, his ocean-deep blue eyes begging for understanding.

I guess I really don't have a clue, Duo admitted to himself, but only to himself. If he admitted to Heero that he had no idea what kind of hurt and bad experiences were behind his reasoning, he'd undermine his right to be angry. He still very much believed he had the right to be angry, although he also knew he would quickly feel guilty about it. Maybe telling Heero that he might not be as "straight" as they believed could have made a difference, but it wasn't the right time. It felt insincere to say in that moment, like he would only be saying it to get something out of it. He started nodding slowly, as a token of his understanding, and then wordlessly offered to pour him a cup of coffee.

"Yes, thank you." Heero watched him pour a big mug and accepted it gratefully.

Duo served himself a cup as well, and still felt self-conscious with how close Heero was to him. He couldn't stop stealing glances at his tanned legs, the way his hands cupped the mug, the way he pursed his lips as he enjoyed the taste and warmth of the morning coffee, the beauty mark about half an inch below the outer corner of his right eye, and the length and thickness of his eyelashes. He was beautiful, tousled hair and dark circles and all. These were the same things he had noticed every other morning, but this was the first morning that he knew why. It was a little unsettling because it changed everything, and he didn't quite know how to act around him anymore, now that he realized he couldn't stop staring at those lips because he wanted to kiss them.

"I didn't sleep much last night," Heero said, when they were both about halfway through their coffee.

"Because of your boyfriend? Or ex, I should say?"

"No, because of you," he said and then deadpanned: "But thanks for reminding me."

"Because of me?"

"You're not like other straight guys -"

You have no idea.

"- and I really think we could be friends if not for my stupid rule and... and I know it's stupid, I do." He chuckled sheepishly. "So I was up all night thinking: maybe you are my exception."

Duo blinked at the words, spoken so softy.

"If you still want to be, that is."

Then he couldn't contain his smile any longer. He had no idea what kind of thought process had gone into Heero's change of heart, but he was grateful and excited. The corners of his mouth curled upward and the mug suddenly felt cold in his hands in comparison to the heat that radiated from his core. "I'd love to be your exception." It was only fair; Heero was his exception, after all.

"Cool. Okay." Heero hid behind his coffee mug as he took another sip.

"So how about we go see that movie we were talking about?"

Heero looked a little intimidated by the idea of them jumping headfirst into this "friendship-thing." "I'm pretty sure it's no longer in theatres - that was over a month ago."

"Right, shit. I really wanted to see that movie."

"You didn't take Quatre?"

"No, he hates blood-and-gore. He likes romantic stuff with subtitles."

Heero nodded, with a small smile.

"A different movie then. Let's see what's playing." Duo bypassed him and grabbed his phone that was on the dinner table. He went to the website for the local movie theatre.

"Wow, okay, you're really not wasting any time."

Duo looked up from the webpage. "I'm sorry. Did you have plans already for tonight?"

"I did, yeah, but then my boyfriend dumped me on my birthday, so..." Heero shrugged.

"You don't feel like going out," the American concluded.

"No, a movie is good. But nothing romantic!"

"Horror or action?" Duo wondered as he scrolled through the choices.

"Can you be more specific?" Heero hopped up onto the counter and gestured with his mug, prompting Duo to pour him another cup from the pot.

As he distractedly poured them both a second serving of coffee, Duo read the plot summaries aloud: "Action: a new kind of terrorist is having the New York police force fight against the clock, and Agent Dan Kane is the only one who can solve the riddle in time to save the city and his fiancé." He looked up at Heero and laughed at the face he was making. "I'm assuming that's a 'no'."

"You assumed correct, sir."

"Oka~y..." He scrolled further down the list, past more clichéd action flicks and a lot of romcoms. "Horror: Tuesday Hush - played by actress Jennifer -"

"Wait, horror or porn? 'Tuesday Hush'?"

"Horror. But she'll probably have a sex-scene and get killed off shortly after," he deadpanned. "Tuesday Hush - played by actress Jennifer Gold, known from 'Hell Hath No Fury 2' - returns to her hometown to celebrate her birthday with her meddling family, but when a presumed dead uncle shows up to join the celebration, Tuesday only has one wish to make: to live through the night."

"That one."

Duo frowned. "You wanna see this piece of shit? Seriously? I might have to rethink if I still want to be friends with you."

"Come on. I really need to see someone have a worse birthday than the one I had."

The braided man snickered and conceded.

That evening they headed out together to the theatre, but Duo convinced Heero to go with him to the Chinese place around the corner for a cheap and greasy meal first. Dinner and a movie - the classic date. Of course it wasn't really a date, but about halfway through their chow mein and shared foursome of eggrolls, Duo wished it was a date, so he could have placed his hands on Heero's when he noticed the other was anxious. Instead, he had to make do pretending to listen to Heero as he rambled on about the over-the-top décor of the take-out restaurant that perpetuated a racial stereotype.

Heero usually got political when he was nervous, and Duo quietly wondered what it would be like to touch his hand and feel the hairs on his lower arm, or sit next to him, put his arm around his small waist and kiss him, knowing the twenty-six-year-old hadn't shaved for a while. He wondered what the barely-there stubbles on his upper lip and chin would feel like against his clean-shaven jaw, and he tried to imagine what kind of kisser Heero was - what kissing any guy would feel like. Would they fight for dominance? Would he be more aggressive or greedy?

It felt like a violation to think of Heero that way, since he had only agreed to a friendship and not the "more" that Duo secretly wanted, but he couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering.

They laughed throughout the entire movie; they were the only ones in the theatre. Between them was a big bag of popcorn, and whenever Duo noticed Heero reaching for it from the corner of his eye, he reached his hand into the carton as well, "accidentally" touching Heero's hand with his. It was juvenile yet titillating; it was a kind of excitement he hadn't experienced in a long time and it solidified his suspicion - or rather, Hilde's suspicion. Although he had identified as heterosexual his entire life, and the thought of being with just any guy didn't arouse him in the least, his feelings for Heero were of a romantic nature. Since they had been set free from the secret, hidden compartment in his heart, they roamed all over his body and occupied his mind, and thrilled his most private parts as well.

That posed a problem. It took four years to convince Heero to give him a shot as a friend and with the way his emotions were running rampant, he didn't want to have to wait much longer to satisfy his craving for 'more'. But how could he convince the man, who had gone through several ice-cream-worthy break-ups - one as recent as the day before - to give the most unlikely, most uncertain and most challenging romantic relationship a chance?

Only a few weeks short of thirty years old, Duo decided that he was too old to be playing games. Now that he was finally honest with himself, he ought to be honest with Heero as well. They had been doing the "friends" thing for three weeks. Duo wasn't planning to push matters, respecting Heero's need to adjust to the new friendship - that he had resisted for so long - and get over his breakup with the mysterious fool whose name Duo still did not know, but he knew was a fool for letting a guy like Heero go. But then, Heero went out with "rough-night" Logan again. It wasn't so much a sign that the young man was getting over his heartbreak as it was insufferable for Duo to be witness to; that is, his roommate and crush coming home in the dead of night, with the smell of Logan all over him. Frankly, they didn't have time for games anymore. Soon Heero would start dating the next guy - Logan was always his "goodbye-fuck" to singledom - and Duo needed to be that guy.

It was rushed and risky, but he had to do it.

"Sit down for a second, will you?" Duo tried to keep his voice from wavering with nerves. He patted the empty seat on the couch next to him.

"I thought you wanted to go to the movies?"

I do, but I want to make out with you at the movies, so first, we have to do this. "Later; I need to tell you something first."

Heero straightened up, leaving the shoelaces of his Timberlands untied. "That sounds serious."

Duo tried to laugh it off. "It's just something I need to tell you. Something I need your opinion on."

"That shirt?" Heero deadpanned, eying the faded plaid shirt over a black tank top.

"No."

"The jeans?"

"No! - Wait, what the fuck is wrong with my jeans?" Duo looked down at himself.

His roommate chuckled. "As your friend, it is my obligation to tell you that you can't do the ripped-jeans look after your thirtieth."

Smugly, Duo retorted: "So then I guess you'll be seeing a lot of them the next four weeks." He patted the cushion again. "Come on. Seriously."

Heero walked over, mindful not to trip over the loose laces. He sat down with a suspicious look on his face. He tried to lighten the atmosphere with an awkward joke. "Is this about my jeans?"

Duo glanced down at the light-wash, skintight jeans he was wearing. There was absolutely nothing wrong with those jeans. Duo loved those jeans, and he especially loved how extra skinny his legs looked paired with those clunky Timberlands. He decided to cut to the chase and not respond to the joke with pseudo-witty banter that would only postpone the inevitable. "I've been having a really great time with you the past couple of weeks."

"Are you breaking up with me?" Heero joked again.

Duo smiled. Heero had the same kind of trigger-happy humor as he did and, just like him, it was a spree-killing whenever he was anxious. "I think I like you," he blurted, and then had to swallow his heart back down into his gut.

Heero knew damn well what he was getting at, but still he tried to brush it off with a joke. "And I've developed a mild fondness for you as well."

"Heero..." His voice died down to a whisper and he did the one thing he had yearned to do for three weeks: he reached between them and took hold of Heero's hand. The skin was rougher and the palm was bigger than what he was used to. It felt wonderful. His heart leaped up into his throat again and his voice came out distorted as he reiterated: "I really like you."

"..." Heero swallowed audibly. "... oh shit."

The American blinked. " 'Oh shit'?"

Heero retreated his hand and stuffed both between his thighs, pressing his legs together so Duo couldn't grab either hand again. "So you're gay now?"

"I'm not gay, but I'm not straight either," he explained calmly.

"Then what are you?" Heero snapped.

"In love with you."

Heero stared at him for a moment, then chuckled uncomfortably. "Duo, come on..."

"What?"

"You're just confused."

Duo frowned. He was hurt and agitated by Heero denying his feelings. "I'm not confused. I know what I'm feeling," he pressed. "Sexuality isn't black and white, you know?"

"Oh, I suppose it's 'fifty shades of grey'?"

Duo smiled. "I made the exact same joke! See, we're perfect together!" When he leaned in closer, Heero scooted further away.

"Yeah and a few weeks ago I made the exact same joke as Quatre. It doesn't mean wedding bells ought to be ringing; it just means we have the same stupid sense of humor. Which is why we are friends."

"We could be more than friends."

Heero scoffed.

"We could try!" Duo was starting to sound really pathetic - he acknowledged that - but things weren't playing out as they had in his mind and it scared him. He hadn't put his heart on the line in a really long time, and it was quite shocking to be reminded of how badly it could hurt.

"I don't want to be your little sexual experiment, Duo. Whichever way it turns out, it won't turn out well for me."

He frowned at that. "What do you mean?"

Heero sighed at having to explain it to him, but answered: "Most likely you'll figure out that you've confused a 'bromance' for something real and you'll realize you're straight. Or maybe you'll realize you are gay and everything would be nice for a while, until some other guy catches your attention and you'll want to relive your youth fucking around, 'playing the field'. Whatever the case, things will end badly between us."

Duo shook his head. "What if I realize - even more than I already do - that I'm not straight nor gay but just into you. And I won't ever be interested in women or other men because I'll have you and you'll have me."

"I don't believe it works that way."

"Give me a chance to prove you wrong," he begged.

For a split-second it seemed like he was getting through to him, but then Heero replied stubbornly: "I don't date straight guys."

"Jesus!" Duo exclaimed, getting bitter as it became more and more apparent that Heero wasn't going to take away the aching pain in his chest. "Another rule? What is this? Like a two-tiered regulatory system to segregate 'the gays' and 'the straights'?"

"Maybe I just don't want to hold some guy's hand while he gives his first blowjob! I have enough to deal with!"

"Why won't you give me a chance? You fuck everyone else!" Duo was as startled by his own words as Heero was. They both stared at each other wide-eyed for several heartbeats. "I- I didn't- ... I didn't mean t-that," Duo stammered helplessly. "I didn't-... Shit. Shit!" He was panicking; his hands started to tremble.

Heero got up from the couch slowly without a word. He walked a few steps away but then nearly tripped over his untied laces - the stumble set him off. He kicked off his shoes - one hit the wall and the other hit a chair at the dinner table - and then he turned around with his jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. "You're right! You're so right!" He shouted and his broken tone cut right through Duo. "I do sleep around. I sleep around because I look for love in all the wrong places...I should stop doing that. So I should definitely not try to look for love with you. No place could be more wrong than a guy who just wants to fuck me to satisfy his curiosity!"

"It's not like that. It's not like that at all," he muttered, but he knew it was hopeless.

Heero scoffed bitterly. "We should have just gone to the fucking movies..." He walked away and slammed his bedroom door shut.

There it was... Duo's first heartbreak in years, and it was the worst he had ever experienced.

"Tell me what you did," Quatre ordered as they meandered through the store.

"Hm?" Duo looked up from a black leather jacket that he had been ogling inconspicuously, trying to get a look at the price-tag without alerting one of the store clerks. It was probably beyond his budget and he didn't want to embarrass himself. "Sorry, what?"

"Tell me what you did."

He shrugged. "I don't know. What did I do? You seem to know more about whatever it is we're talking about than me."

"Heero."

"Oh," slipped right by his lips.

"Oh?" Quatre mirrored.

"Did Heero tell you something happened?"

"I haven't talked to Heero in weeks," Quatre informed him, emerging from behind a rack of designer jeans to come stand in front of him with his hands on his hips. "But we've been in this store for an hour and a half and you haven't said a single thing, not even about those hideous shorts I pointed out, so something has to be wrong. Hence, my question."

"Why do you assume it has anything to do with Heero?" He scrunched up his face. "Wait, why do you assume it's something I did?"

Quatre tapped his foot impatiently.

"Alright, fine. It is about Heero and it is something I did."

"So?"

"So... I don't want to talk about it." Duo circled back to the leather jacket but still pretended not to be interested.

"Well, that's a first: you not wanting to talk about Heero. Normally I couldn't even stop you if I tried."

He snorted. "I don't talk about him that much."

"Yes, you do. You even tell me things about Heero that I told you about Heero first."

He shrugged. "I guess that's just because he's something we have in common, so it's a logical subject for us to talk about."

Quatre sighed. "Will you please tell me what's going on?"

"Fine," Duo snapped, getting irrationally upset even though he knew his friend had the best intentions. "I told Heero that I'm in love with him and then I basically called him a whore." He winced at his own words, but that was the gist of it.

"What?! You called him a...?" He looked around himself and didn't want to finish his question.

"That's the only part of what I said that shocks you?"

"I must admit: I didn't think you were gay. But that's because the whole metrosexual-thing you have going on is confusing as Hell. But in hindsight, it makes sense."

"I'm not gay," Duo insisted in a low tone, confused that Quatre would even draw that conclusion so offhandedly.

Quatre frowned. "But you said you're in love with Heero?"

"So?"

"Alright, 'bi' then. But I have to honest: 'bi' is just the rest stop on the way to gay."

He stared at his friend incredulously. "I don't believe this. Why do you and Heero both want to pigeonhole sexuality like that? The human experience is such a complicated thing, and yet you honestly believe that everyone fits into one of two boxes?"

"I can tell you have done some reading."

"I have. And you and Heero should too," he bit. "Honestly - maybe this is my own bias speaking - but I thought my two gay friends would be more understanding with regards to the complexity of sexuality."

Quatre cast his gaze down at his shoes, realizing his mistake. "I'm sorry. I guess-..." He paused to consider his words carefully. "I guess, as a gay guy, we just become so used to having defend our sexuality that... we've started to fight against the gray-area, because everyone is always trying to push us into that gray area." He put on a different tone of voice and said sardonically: "You just haven't met the right girl yet. You're just confused. If you try harder to like girls, you will. Just because you like that one boy, doesn't mean..." He let his sentence trail off and looked away guiltily. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be standing here making excuses."

Duo shook his head and reached out to touch his friend's arm. "No, it's fine. I get it. I hadn't thought it about like that. But, I'd appreciate your understanding."

"I'm trying."

The American offered him a smile. "Thanks."

"Welcome to the island of misfit toys," Quatre said with a bitter chuckle. "You'll be asking for understanding and defending your sexuality for the rest of your life..."

Duo's smile faltered as he realized that was true. He always knew that he had it easy "when he was straight" - when he thought he was straight. Sometimes people would assume he was gay, based on his looks, and being able to deny that prejudiced assumption had always felt like a small victory - one that made him feel guilty in hindsight. When ignorant strangers insulted him with gay slurs, it never hit home for him because he thought they were wrong. As soon as he convinced people that he was straight, everything was easier, and he had never been met with any unwavering lack of acceptance or respect. That would change. It was intimidating.

"So," Quatre started, as he resumed meandering throughout the store with Duo on his heels, "you and Heero, huh?"

"No. There is no me-and-Heero. And I think that might be my problem."

"I think calling him a- a-... 'whore'," Quatre whispered the word, "is your problem."

"Basically," Duo reminded him. "I didn't say the actual thing, but... I might as well have."

Quatre quirked an eyebrow. "What did you say?"

"Something like..." He searched his memory and didn't like what he found. "You might as well give it a shot with me, you fuck everyone else."

Quatre made a telling face.

"I know." He sighed in defeat.

"Why would you even say that?"

"Things got heated. He was upsetting me, with the same black-and-white, gay-versus-straight stuff that you said. I wanted him to give me chance but he shot me down, and I felt like he only did that because I'm different: not gay and not straight."

Quatre looked at him sympathetically, thoughtlessly touching the sleeve of a suede jacket. "Maybe I shouldn't say this - I'm afraid of saying all the wrong things and betraying a trust... But... Heero has been down this road before, with men who said a lot of the same things that you are saying," he stopped to chew on the inside of his cheek, "it didn't work out and... it got bad. Some of those guys really hurt him. So he has rules about that now, to protect himself."

The rules. Duo felt a stinging pain in his chest; he hated the thought of Heero getting hurt by anyone.

"It was before you guys moved in together," Quatre helpfully supplied.

"I feel bad about that, but just because some other guy fucked up doesn't mean I will. And I'm serious about this. It's not about experimenting or living out a dirty fetish - I am in love with him," he stressed.

"You sound very sure," the other remarked.

Duo raised his eyebrows at the implied questioning of his certainty. "I am."

"When did that happen?" There was no malice in his tone, only genuine curiosity and Duo felt more at ease.

"Hilde said some shit... but I guess the big epiphany was at his birthday party. I walked in on him with someone and-" He gestured wildly around himself, trying to provide a visual aid to the clutter of thoughts and feelings that had hit him in that moment. "And it put everything in a new perspective."

"His birthday party?" Blonde eyebrows knitted together. "He was with someone at his birthday party? He just got dumped that same day!" He let out a little laugh and commented, red-faced: "Boy does get around."

"With everyone but me," Duo said bitterly.

Quatre pulled out the suede jacket to inspect it more closely, but he seemed lost in thought.

"This is the point in the movie where the gay best friend gives the most amazing advice that sets up the third act and eventually leads to the happy ending."

He put the jacket away and smiled up at Duo - an apologetic smile. "Sorry Duo; I didn't get my copy of the script - this is all improv," he snapped his fingers comically, "and I suck at it."

"At least you're pretty."

Quatre stuck his tongue out at him.

"So, Mister Improv, do you think it could work? Me and Heero?"

The shorter man made another face, scrunching up his features. It displeased Duo.

"Wow, that bad..." He looked away self-consciously.

Quatre tried to explain: "It's just that you guys don't even know each other that well. Heero is going through things that you don't know about." He clenched his jaw shut and pressed his mouth into a thin line before he could say any more.

Duo realized it was the truth, that he didn't know many personal things about Heero, but only because Heero had purposefully kept him at arm's length. Duo wanted to know about all the things he was going through and he wanted to help, but instead, Heero just put up a front with him, because of the damn rules.

"I mean... Do you even know him well enough to say - with such resolve - that you're in love with him?" Before Duo could get the wrong impression, he clarified: "I'm not doubting your sexual epiphany, but I'm - cautiously - " he raised his finger, "questioning your definition of 'being in love'."

With only a quirk of his eyebrow he got his friend to continue.

"It could just be a crush. A lot of people crush on Heero." One corner of his mouth pulled down and something guilty flickered in his eyes.

"You-...?"

"Ehhh..." The drawn out sound developed into an awkward chuckle. "Me. Trowa. Straight guys. The Gingerbread Man... We've all been there."

He let out a short laugh at the preposterous idea of either Trowa or Quatre being with anyone other than each other. But the laughter died down as jealousy settled over him. "Did you guys-...?" He found it hard to finish his sentences with regards to this subject.

"I didn't," he said hastily.

"But Trowa-..." Another incomplete sentence.

"For a bit, yeah. In high school."

To get a sudden, unwelcome image of a young Heero and a young Trowa exploring their sexuality together out of his head he joked: "And the Gingerbread Man?"

Quatre laughed. "Probably."

"So you think it's just a crush? What I'm feeling?"

"I think-... I think you should give it some more thought, before you can honestly decide what it is or what it isn't. And before you act and fuck up your housing-situation with Heero, because while I love you," he eyed him sweetly, "you are not moving in with me and Trowa."

"You have like seventeen guest bedrooms. I could move in there and odds are we'd never run into each other!"

"Honey, trust me. It's an old house, thin walls, and I'm way too vocal."

"Oh God," he laughed again. "Never mind."

They continued shopping and their innocent banter, but in the quiet, as Quatre disappeared into one of the dressing rooms to try on a silk blouse that cost a month's worth of rent, Duo couldn't help but get lost in his own head. He could barely remember being in love, it didn't happen to him often. Once, it was in college, with a Dutch girl named-... Oh shit, he thought to himself as her name completely eluded him. She was blond, with blue eyes and almost as tall as him. She played volleyball, cursed like a sailor and drank beer like a German man - Ingrid! That was her name! They dated during his last few months in Amsterdam, and he had almost stayed in The Netherlands because of her. There was nothing delicate about her, and he was drawn to how unapologetically herself she was. But what he had felt for her was different from how he felt about Heero. Did that comparison mean that he didn't love him after all, or did it mean he never loved Ingrid the way he thought he did?

Even though Ingrid was a tomboy and he fell for her the hardest, it wasn't like she was his type. He didn't really have a type. He also dated pretty, soft-spoken girls, who shyly checked their make-up with their camera phone, and blushed when he noticed they were doing it. He always felt like he couldn't decide between the two. Heero was a little bit of both. Obviously, he had a masculine side to him and he could be blunt and unapologetic, just like Ingrid; but he also had a feminine side - a sensitivity and a softness. Both sides - or rather, the combination of two - attracted Duo, like the negative and positive side of a magnet working together to create a pull.

Quatre must've noticed that Duo wasn't fully present. He cut their day short with a lame excuse and sent him home.

Being at home was like being in the middle of minefield. Duo was scared to move, scared to set off a sequence of events that would ultimately be apocalyptic in proportion. They hadn't spoken about their fight from last week - they barely exchanged words at all. Apparently, they had wordlessly agreed to forget about it, but Duo couldn't remember when or why that happened. The tense atmosphere was unbearable.

He was on the couch, having a beer and watching a movie, when Heero came home without saying hello. The other man went into the kitchen to fix himself something to eat, even though - as far as Duo was able to decipher from what little context clues he had to go by - the Japanese man had just returned from a dinner date. He flinched at every sound: at the scraping of a plate being pulled from the top of the stack; the metallic clangs as Heero rummaged through the cutlery drawer; the sharp bang when he shut the drawer with a pop of his hip; the shrill beep of the microwave. Every little disturbance of the silence had him on edge.

I can't let it go on like this, he thought to himself, wringing his hands together anxiously. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his denim pants legs as he worked on mustering up the courage to speak, knowing he didn't have a lot of time since Heero would be taking his dinner into his room, the way he had all week.

His roommate walked past him, holding his plate of instant noodles in one hand and a tall drink in the other, without ever even glancing his way.

Duo blurted: "I'm sorry." It seemed like the best way to start.

Heero stopped. He was already beyond the couch, out of Duo's field of vision.

The American waited a heartbeat and then twisted in his seat, looking over the back of the couch at the other, who was staring back at him. "What I said-"

"Was an asshole thing to say," Heero supplied curtly.

"Yeah, it was."

Heero pursed his lips, like he didn't like that Duo agreed with him so easily. He was still looking to start a fight, but how do you fight someone who admits defeat? Duo could tell he was trying to work that out.

"Can we try to be friends again?"

"We were never friends, Duo."

Knowing that submission was his best strategy, he concurred again and rephrased: "Can we try again to be friends?"

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Heero, I'm sorry I insulted you. I should have never said-"

Heero cut him off again. "Not because of that."

Duo waited.

"Because of that other thing you said."

His expression was one of confusion, but only for a split second, before realization dawned on him. "The 'I'm in love with you' thing."

"Yeah, the 'I'm in love you' thing," Heero mirrored dryly.

"I'm not sorry about saying that," Duo said, steeling his gaze. "I'm not going to take it back, and I'm not going to apologize either."

"Then we can't be friends," he concluded.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to get more confused and get any ideas. Like... read into stuff."

Duo snorted. Some of his bravery returned to him. "You get to make a lot of decisions, huh?"

"Excuse me?"

"You get to decide that my feelings are just me being confused. And you get to decide that I can't be around you and keep my dick in my pants?"

Heero was taken aback by the snappy comment.

"Look, if you honestly think that the 'I'm in love with you' thing is just me being confused, what do you have to worry about if we start hanging out again? Or at least being civil with each other? If it's just confusion, wouldn't it resolve itself?"

"You're not that quick of a learner."

Duo smiled because he noticed the change in Heero's tone as it went from venomous to cheeky - the way he remembered it from their playful banter from before. "Please?"

"We can be civil," Heero concurred. "As roommates. But I am not your friend." Without any further ado he took his meal into his bedroom and shut the door behind him.

Duo considered the exchange a small victory and felt a little more at ease.

It took a while for them to get back to normal - to being the roommates that they once were - but they managed and, on the surface, it seemed that life had returned to normal.

Only it hadn't.

If the intense relief and delirious happiness at being able to interact with his 'roommate' again was any indication, Duo was definitely not confused about his feelings.

It was difficult not to stare whenever he had the chance: when Heero came into the kitchen in the early morning, in boy-shorts style undies and a shirt that fell off one shoulder; when he watched TV and the glow from the screen illuminated the perfect profile of his straight nose and full lips; when he laughed heartedly at one of Duo's superficial jokes; when he checked his reflection in the mirror by the door before heading out, making a pouty face at himself and almost always adjusting a lock of hair and smoothing over whatever odd - and oddly good-looking - clothes he was wearing.

As time went by, the distance that Heero insisted on keeping between them became increasingly aggravating. Conversations were cut short, before it could get too personal, and Heero always sat so far away from him whenever they ended up on the couch after dinner. Duo wished they could turn off the TV and talk quietly about their pasts, before they knew each other, their ideas for the future, what made them tick, what they loved and what they hated. He wanted to hear about what had been troubling Heero lately, like Quatre said, and help him as best as he could. He ached to put his hand on one of those slim thighs, or the back of his neck and feel the short hairs at the nape; to kiss those lips and get to taste what kind of flavor his chapstick was; to touch his fingers to his jawline on those rare occasions when he neglected to shave, and feel the scratch of the short, dark stubble; to cup the bulge in the front of those tight jeans, and feel it swell under the weight of his big hand. His toes curled in his shoes whenever he thought about it.

It wasn't getting better; it was getting worse. He was not allowed to act on it, but he wasn't sure how much longer he could control himself.

Duo was in trouble.

Chapter 3

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