"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"

Chapter FIVE - Closer

When Duo woke up, his mouth was dry and a vein running across his temple was throbbing - with each pulse, a wave of pain spread through his head. He opened his eyes to a dark room and stared at nothing for a minute, until he redirected his gaze to the alarm clock on his night stand. The red, glowing digits were distorted; he couldn't read them. He blinked, then blinked again. There was nothing wrong with his eyesight; a tall glass of water obstructed his view of the clock. Tentatively, he reached out a hand and brushed his knuckles against it. It was still cold and his knuckles were wet from the fresh condensation.

Heero.

He stretched his arm out to reach the light switch and squinted as the orange glow filled the room. On a little dish, right by the glass, were two aspirin.

Bless him.

With a groan, he sat upright to take the pills and down the entire glass of water. He looked down his body and wiggled his toes; he was no longer wearing his shoes, and he was covered by a blanket that wasn't his. He glanced at the clock again; it told him it was eleven AM. His fuzzy mind beckoned him to go back to sleep, to catch up and sleep off the hangover, but the faintest sound coming from the TV in the living room had Duo ignoring his exhaustion, and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

He opened his bedroom door and was blinded by the sunlight that bathed the living room. It took a second before he could focus on the back of Heero's head sticking out over the back of the couch. The channel that the TV was set to was playing a music video to some new, poppy song, but the volume was so low Duo doubted that Heero was really into the music.

"Good morning," he croaked.

Heero twisted his neck to look back at him. "Hey. Morning."

"Thanks for the water. And the shoes... And the blanket." He scratched the back of his neck.

"Sure."

Duo headed into the kitchen to get himself a bottle of water from the fridge, since hydration was key. He held up a second bottle in a wordless question, but it took a second for Heero to look his way and take notice.

"Oh, no thank you." After barely a pause, Heero requested: "Actually, do you mind getting me a glass of orange juice?"

Without a word, Duo got a glass from the cabinet and poured him the drink. He walked over to the couch and held the glass out to him. As Heero accepted it, their fingers brushed; in that moment, they both shot each other a look before averting their gazes.

The American walked to the other end of the couch where he sat down. The next music video started playing, an older, soft-rock song. "When did you get home?"

"Nine-ish."

"That's early."

"Logan was called-in to work. He said I could stay at his place but...-"

"We have a better TV?" Duo supplied jokingly.

"No, I...-" Heero didn't finish his sentence again, and he wasn't going to try.

Did he come home to take care of me? Duo screwed the cap open and downed half the bottle before coming up for air. He wasn't going to say anything and didn't expect Heero to either, with the way he was intently staring at the screen, even though commercials were playing now.

"Which bar did you guys go to?"

Duo shot his roommate a look, not knowing what to make of the inquiry. "Key Hole."

"That's a club, not a bar."

"Well, the song goes 'at the gay bar'," Duo deadpanned in response, trying to be funny.

"You should have gone to Milk Man, that's a bar. The crowd is usually friendly too."

"Friendly or friendly?" He asked with a smirk.

"Both. You're as likely to get a free beer as you are to get a blowjob in the restrooms." Heero spoke matter-of-factly.

"I don't think that's what I want," Duo said after giving it some thought. "I mean, I like a BJ as much as the next guy, but I don't-... I don't want that."

"What do you want, Duo?" Heero shot in return, suddenly fixing his gaze on him again. He was unreadable as only Heero could be.

"I don't know," he admitted, his headache acting up. "But I don't think I'm interested in that sort of stuff. I'm not into guys in general..." He paused and looked back at his roommate. "It'd take someone special. I guess it was naïve to think I could just go to a bar - sorry, a club - and expect to run into someone like that but..." Duo had no intention of finishing that sentence, trusting that there was no need.

"You're still not 'out of love' with me?" Heero asked, his tone impatient.

"Nope."

Heero pursed his lips and looked at the screen again.

"I'm trying," Duo clarified miserably. "At this point, I don't want this any more than you do... The bartender hit on me; I wish I was interested, but I wasn't. He was cute, I could see that, but I wasn't drawn to him the way I am to you."

"What makes me special? Why am I the exception?" For the first time, Heero's voice wasn't sharp, like he was using words to slash at him; there was a vulnerability to his tone as he struggled to understand.

Duo shrugged. He didn't have an answer to that; he didn't have any answers, not for Heero and not to the many questions he had been asking himself. He was at the point of realizing that he really didn't need any answers or explanations, or find a paragraph in a book somewhere that identified him and what he was: his genus, his species. He was just Duo, in love with Heero. He couldn't explain that any better than he could explain why he fell in love with Ingrid, or why he fell in love with Hilde; all he could really say about it was that the three of them were amazing, interesting people, who captivated him and made his heart do things in his chest - that were both painful and euphoric - whenever they looked at him.

Recognizing his question would go unanswered, Heero cast his gaze down to his hands that rested in his lap. "I'm sorry," he muttered eventually. "I just don't feel the same way."

Duo took a second to absorb the impact those words had on him - like a freight train hitting him head-on. The admission was not shocking, however. It was apparent his affection was unrequited and it had been from the start. He shook his head. "No, you don't need to apologize. You have Logan."

"But I didn't," Heero hurried to say. "I didn't when you first told me."

"Did you have feelings for me before Logan?"

"No." The word was spoken softly. "But maybe I should have given you a chance. I used to like you. Really like you."

Duo snapped his head up to stare at him. Even though it didn't change anything about their current situation, his heart beat faster at hearing him say that. He noticed the blush on that golden face, and the way his roommate was wringing his hands together with embarrassment. It prompted a small smile to appear on Duo's lips.

"In the beginning, you know? When we first moved in together."

The American's eyebrows knitted together; that made no sense to him. "You barely talked to me the whole first year. You were avoiding me."

"I was avoiding you with good reason," Heero supplied, keeping his gaze fixed on his fingers playing with the ring on his left thumb. "I knew I shouldn't fall in love with my roommate."

"Another rule?" Duo intended the question as a joke, but his voice was a little strained and it sounded like a jab.

"When the roommate is straight, yeah." Heero gestured vaguely, indicating confusion and amended: "Or thinks he's straight, or-... whatever."

"Right."

"I wasn't-..." He hesitated for a moment, but then started anew: "I wasn't entirely honest when I said I didn't want to be your friend because of a rule I have about straight guys, because I need a gay wingman to face the heat with. I mean, what I said was the truth, but it wasn't all of it."

Duo waited and didn't interrupt. Quatre had already given away that there was more to it, but he wanted to hear the whole story from Heero.

Heero chuckled bitterly at himself before continuing. "I've fallen in love with straight guys on occasion, and every time it just ended up completely fucked up, you know?" He finally looked up at Duo again and his eyes were begging for understanding.

All Duo could do was swallow and nod in response.

"I had been attracted to you before, so I knew I couldn't risk becoming friends with you - like I did with those other guys, thinking it would all be innocent and platonic - and end up in the same place where I've been before. I don't like that place."

"What place?"

Heero let out a sigh and looked at his hands again. "The place where I hate myself... because they're everything I want, and I'm not what they want, not even when they try." His voice pitched; he pursed his lips to regain control over his emotions.

Duo locked his hands between his clenched thighs; it was all he could do to stop himself from reaching out for Heero when he realized the smaller man was close to tears.

"Lately though -" Heero stopped himself and brought up a hand to angrily wipe at his face as the first tear fell. "- I'm starting to think I'm never what any of them want. I'm trying to be what Logan wants, but -..."

Duo's hand escaped the clutch of his thighs on instinct, and with a mind of its own, it placed itself on Heero's shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort.

The Japanese man let out a sad chuckle at the gesture, and wiped some more at his eyes. "I'm probably not what you'd want either, but maybe I should have given you a chance."

Duo tried desperately to understand where all of that was coming from all of a sudden, but he didn't. His confusion was evident.

"It seems like you like me for me, and you don't want me to be anything."

Heero's explanation hardly clarified anything for Duo, but he nodded along fervently anyway. He hoped he could at least offer him comfort and make him feel better, but the blue eyes that stared back at him were immensely sad; the sight of them was enough to make Duo's heart shatter audibly.

"But I'm probably not what you'd want either," Heero repeated, and then looked back at his hands and started twisting the gold ring around his thumb again, over and over.

"And what about Logan? What does he 'want you to be'?"

Heero's mouth tightened. "Logan wants me to be the same thing I want me to be. But the problem is I'm not and I can't change that."

The vague answer didn't leave Duo any less confused, but he was afraid of asking the wrong questions - feeling like this related to "the secret" - and he didn't want to put Heero off by making it seem like he was prying.

"I don't want to lose him, but neither of us can pretend any longer."

"Did you tell him? About -... The thing?" Duo didn't know how else to put it; honestly, if Heero would just tell him more details, he could be more helpful and give better advice. He felt like a shitty friend who didn't know what was what, but that was because Heero had engineered it that way.

"Sort of."

"He didn't take it well?"

"He pretends that it doesn't bother him, but it does and I can't pretend not to notice. He looks at me different now, and being with him doesn't make me feel good anymore, like it used to." Heero stopped himself and didn't continue.

"If he can't accept you for who you are, he's an asshole," Duo said in an attempt to come to his defense.

Heero looked at him sharply and narrowed his eyes at the insult. "Don't talk about him like that! None of this is his fault - he's not to blame!"

The American reeled back at the outburst. "I'm sorry..." He muttered, but then pointed out: "Don't get mad at me! I'm just trying to help, without even knowing what's going on."

"You're right," Heero grumbled. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have told you all of this." He moved to get up from the couch, but Duo reached out and grabbed his wrist; he pulled him back down into the seat, causing Heero to look offended.

With a soft tone, Duo explained himself. "I don't mean 'talk to me less because I don't understand anyway'; I mean: talk to me more, help me understand so I can help you. You said that maybe you should have given me a chance before; give me this chance now. Give me the chance to prove that I can be your friend - I'm a damn good friend, ask Quatre. I'm not a bad guy."

"And neither is Logan!" Heero pulled his arm free - Duo hadn't even realized he still had his fingers locked around Heero's wrist - and jumped up from the couch. "It's not about that! I don't want another person to look at me like I'm a freak! Least of all you!"

Duo blinked and shot up from the couch himself. "What do you mean 'least of all me'?" He demanded.

Heero let out a pathetic little squeak and paused before he managed to answer: "Because we live together!"

He shook his head. "That's not what you meant." His heart was racing. He took a step closer to Heero, acting on an instinct that he decided not to question, but maybe he should have because he was only pushed back.

"I like it, okay?" His roommate admitted, while his face was red with embarrassment. "I like the way you look at me. It makes me feel like I could still be good enough. I don't want to change that!"

"It won't change," Duo tried to reassure him and he reached out for him again, only to have his hands swatted away.

"I'm sorry, Duo. I shouldn't be telling you these things. I don't want to lead you on. I'm just being selfish."

"I know," he said with a nod. "And it still won't change."

Heero let out a bitter chuckle. "My secret is a lot worse than me being a selfish attention-whore."

"I know. And it still wouldn't change."

He took in a shaking breath. "You can't say that... You don't know..."

"You don't know for sure any more than I do, yet you believe you are right. One of us, however, is wrong. And I think it's you."

Tears were streaming down Heero's face and Duo's heart ached for him. He looked so lost and so small. Heero was short, sure, but he never looked small to Duo before - his personality was too big for that.

"Let me prove you wrong," he said again, as he had so many times before, hoping - at one point - Heero would let him. He offered him a little smile and then warned: "I'm going to hug you now. As a friend." Before waiting for either permission or rejection, he stepped forward and it seemed Heero was too frozen to react anyway. Duo wrapped his arms around his thin frame, feeling him vibrate with fear and anxiety. Heero kept his arms stiffly at his sides; it didn't appear like he was going to react to the embrace, until he slightly turned his head and nuzzled his nose against Duo's chest, tucking his wild head of hair under Duo's chin. The tall man let his hands caress the trembling back, feeling him slowly relax. A smile appeared on his lips; he was relieved to at least have been of some help.

"I'm sorry about this," Heero mumbled against him; his warm breath traveled through the material of Duo's shirt, and the heat of it spread through his entire chest. "You probably have a splitting headache from last night and I stood there yelling at you."

Duo let out a breathy chuckle. "I'm fine. I can handle it."

Then Heero moved, but not to escape the embrace. He brought his arms up to encircle Duo's body, and pressed himself tightly against his taller roommate - his taller friend.

The relationship between Heero and Logan ended a few days later. The Japanese man didn't tell Duo much; he just knocked on his bedroom door one night - a little after midnight - and asked to come in and then, in the same breath, if he could join him in the bed. Wordlessly, Duo pulled the sheets back to let him in; Heero toed off his shoes and laid in bed with him, his cheek resting on Duo's shoulder. He was afraid to move; he only to give Heero whatever closeness the other needed; he didn't want to push anything and make him uncomfortable. After a while, Heero grabbed his arm, hugged it to his chest, and shared whatever he was comfortable with sharing - not much. From what Duo was able to piece together, Heero was the one to have made the final decision; Logan didn't fight to change his mind. Duo didn't say anything - he just listened to whatever Heero was willing to tell him. He didn't want to make the same mistake of saying the wrong things in an attempt to reassure him.

Heero slept in his bed that night and in the morning Duo was late for work.

A few days later, while Heero was out with Quatre and Trowa - probably doing something secretive, revolving "The Secret" and the resulting break-up with Logan, Duo imagined - the house phone rang and Duo knew exactly who it was. Duo answered the call with: "Logan."

"Is he doing okay?"

Duo's mouth tightened to stop himself from asking all the questions he shouldn't; Logan didn't have the right to answer them, yet he might and they would both be in the wrong if he did. "He'll be fine," he answered curtly.

"I'm not an asshole," Logan said.

"I know, Heero told me you're not."

Duo's answer caused a relieved sigh from the other end of the line. "We just weren't compatible."

"That happens." He chewed on the inside of his cheek in the silence that followed. "Why are you calling me?"

"I just wanted to make sure that he's alright, and that you're taking care of him."

"Hn."

"... Did he tell you?"

Knowing exactly what he meant with the nondescript question, Duo answered: "No."

"He's afraid..." Logan sighed again - deeper - definitely no longer relieved, "especially after my reaction."

"Hn." There was nothing else Duo could say without the conversation getting into details that he wasn't supposed to know.

"I could tell you, if you want. If you need," Logan offered. "If it'll help you make sure he's alright."

Duo fervently shook his head. "No!" He rushed to answer before Logan could say anything that he shouldn't. "No, don't. If you tell me, we'd both be assholes and that's not what Heero needs."

"Yeah, you're right. You're a good friend, Duo. I'm glad he has you."

"He only sees me as a roommate," The American let slip in a childish, petulant tone.

"That's not true," Logan responded; he sounded so damn sure that Duo's heart soared. "He likes to keep people at arm's length, but he has short arms so he can't stop people from reaching over," he said with a bittersweet chuckle. "You're closer to him than you think. You have a bigger impact than you think - than he lets you think."

Duo absorbed the words and was put at ease by them. "Thanks, Logan."

"I still really love the part of him that I've always known - the part of him that I thought was all of him," Logan spoke morosely. "But there's more to him and I can't- Maybe I'm too gay, maybe I'm not gay enough! I-"

"Stop! You're saying too much."

"Sorry."

"You already said enough: you guys were incompatible. It happens. It doesn't make you an asshole."

"Thanks, Duo." He exhaled into the receiver. "Take care of him."

"I will."

The line was disconnected without either of them saying proper goodbyes. Duo never heard from Logan again, and neither did Heero.

Time passed and Heero returned to his routine of casual dating, and establishing a steady sex-only relationship with someone he met through a mutual friend. Duo dated a client for a while, who brought her dad's Mustang to the shop and idled around as she waited for Duo to do the regular check-up. She was cute and funny, and Duo realized that he shouldn't not give her chance because she's a woman. Just because he had come to the realization that he could be attracted to other men, didn't mean he should start dating men exclusively all of a sudden. However, his remaining affection for Heero eventually caused the young, budding relationship to wilt. When she pointed out to him on a date that he talked about his roommate "an awful lot", he recognized he was being unfair to her, and called it quits before he lost another sock.

He was closer to Heero than he had ever been. It didn't matter much to him that Heero's motivations were likely selfish; he only allowed the closeness because he liked how Duo looked at him - still as love-struck as ever, undeterred by anything that had transgressed - and he needed that at the moment. The fact that Heero apparently liked him ogling him gave Duo hope. And now that an appropriate length of time had passed since the relationship with Logan came to an end, Duo had ulterior motives behind the friendship as well.

If Heero wanted their relationship to remain purely platonic, that would be fine, but first Duo was going to make it damn hard for him. Little things, like making it a habit to walk around shirtless once the warmer months arrived; draping his arm across the back of the couch while they were watching that silly cartoon that had been the staple of their friendship - he pretended not to notice that the entire length of his arm rested against Heero's shoulders; closely pushing past him in the narrow hallway, cramped bathroom or tiny kitchen - in combination with the first strategy of being shirtless a lot; and, last but not least, shamelessly staring at him the way Heero had admitted he liked.

It was mostly innocent and could be brushed off as incidental if Heero ever accused him of trying anything, but his roommate never made objections. Eventually, Duo got a taste of what Heero must've felt like to be ogled once Heero started to look right back at him. He let his gaze dip down for a brief glance at Duo's broad chest and defined abs; or follow the length of his thick arm when Duo reached around him in the kitchen to grab coffee, a bottle of water, a cracker, or anything else that he didn't really need - it just happened to be in the cabinet Heero was standing in front of.

Heero never made any objections, and Duo suspected that he enjoyed the attention.

It was thrilling, even though the reaction to all of his teasing was minimal. The temptation was a two-way street - although, the closeness might have been more torturous for Duo than it was for the intended victim. Duo got to soak up Heero's body heat whenever he sat close to him on the couch; got to feel his smooth skin when he let his hand brush by Heero's arm; got to appreciate all the beautiful shades of blue as he stared into Heero's eyes over dinner; and got to smell that scent of vanilla and orange blossom, and something even more delicious that wasn't even an ingredient in one of Heero's skin- and haircare products, when he cramped himself into the bathroom alongside him.

Quatre was as bemused as he was concerned. He found Duo's attempts to prompt Heero into falling in love with him endearing and humorous; but at the same time, he recognized that - as long as it wasn't working - it wouldn't do him any good. Duo was only setting himself up for a potentially worse heartbreak; Hilde also advised caution.

But they didn't see the look in Heero's eyes when his gaze first trailed down to Duo's tattoo right by the V-line, above the hem of his low-riding jeans - a tattoo he got when he was eighteen, before he even had those V-lines by his hips. Duo caught him staring, but didn't call him out on it and let him watch as long as he pleased; he stood in the kitchen - half naked - for a prolonged period of time, pretending to struggle with opening a plastic container of frozen fruits for his smoothie.

Heero's face went red when his own mind finally alerted him to the fact that he had been staring; he covered it up cleverly by remarking: "I've seen it before, yet still, I cannot - for the life of me - figure out what that little tattoo is supposed to be."

Duo smirked at him before looking down at himself. Truthfully, the tattoo was poorly done, faded, and had become distorted by the new shape of his body; he wasn't this fit when the image was inked into his skin. "It's a wing."

"Like a pigeon's wing?"

"Like an angel's wing, you dick."

Heero snorted and the blush on his cheeks started to fade as he gained control of himself. He continued making his morning coffee. "Why?"

"Because I was young and stupid, and I thought it would make me look hot."

"It doesn't."

"No," Duo smirked again. "That's what these are for, now." He lowered his hands, and let his index fingers dip into both prominent lines and trail up to his sides.

The blush returned in full force to Heero's golden face, but he tried to shrug it off. "Eh, they're alright."

"Yeah? What about these?" Duo raised his arms and flexed his biceps, making sure to tighten his abs as well. "Do these do the trick?"

Heero didn't allow himself to stare for too long; he turned around and poured the coffee into his awaiting mug. "You're obscene."

"What? Don't tell me... Don't the gay boys like these as much as the straight girls?" Duo asked teasingly.

"To each their own..."

Duo chuckled and dropped his arms back down to his sides. He knew very well Heero had a preference for big, well-built guys, always dating - or just fucking - someone taller and broader than him.

"Wha- uh...what do you like?" Heero inquired innocently, knowing full-well that Duo could see straight through the indifference to his physique. He was still facing away from him, stirring milk and sugar into his coffee, perhaps afraid to be caught staring again.

"I don't really have a type," Duo answered; it was the truth. That was the one major thing he figured out about himself in the past few months: he liked everything, but he liked Heero most of all.

Heero was slender, bordering on thin, and skinnier than he was when they first moved in together; as far as Duo was able to glean - having never seen his roommate in a state of undress - Heero had a tight body. Even though he didn't look like he worked out much, aside from his cardio-routine and daily squats, his unusual sense of fashion - the cropped shirts, the skinny jeans and the oversized sweaters that would hang off one shoulder - showed off a taut stomach and jutting hipbones, long legs, a shapely behind, wiry arms and sharply defined collar bones.

"I like you," he finally added boldly. Heero's shoulders tensed. "I can say that, right?"

"I guess."

Duo smiled at Heero's light, joking tone; he was relieved that his boldness hadn't gotten him in trouble. In silence, he prepared his smoothie, while Heero stood there at the counter, keeping his back towards him, lost in his own thoughts.

Thinking about me, I hope. Duo grinned, quite pleased with himself. He stayed in the kitchen with Heero for as long as he could, enjoying his presence, even though they weren't talking or even facing each other.

When it was time to head to work, he rinsed out the blender and set it aside to clean later tonight, then hurried to throw on his work shirt. By the time he was ready to go, Heero still stood rooted in his spot, wearing nothing but briefs and the shirt he slept in, his hair ever the mess. "Aren't you gonna be late for work?"

The question snapped his roommate out of his trance. He blinked and put away the cup of coffee that was still full. "Shit, right." He glanced at the clock on the microwave as he passed it and quickened his steps towards his bedroom.

Duo laughed - he enjoyed seeing the results of his hard work. He'd been teasing Heero for weeks, and it was finally paying off. "I'll see you later! Count me out for dinner; I'm gonna stay at the shop and work on my bike!" He called.

"Sure, yeah!" Heero sounded out of breath and then cursed when he knocked something over in his rush.

"Don't hurt yourself!" Duo laughed and then left the apartment.

When he arrived at the shop, he was greeted by Jamie who was reading up on some paperwork at the front desk. Duo blatantly ignored the homophobic bully - he had been ever since learning how his colleague treated Heero at the surprise birthday party - and headed straight for his workspace at the back of the building.

The stripped Citroën DS 19 that had been his main task for the past two weeks was waiting for him. His bike was in the corner, covered by the protective tarp. Expectantly, he checked the workbench; a package was supposed to have been delivered to the shop yesterday, his day off: new stator-, clutch- and crank-covers, custom made according to his specifications. He had been looking forward to working late and installing them, but there was no box waiting for him.

A coworker walked by and Duo called out to him: "Hey, Matt - you didn't happen to see a big box with my name on it somewhere? Was supposed to be delivered yesterday."

Matt shrugged and only said: "Ask Jamie; he was here yesterday."

Well, fuck. Grumbling, Duo headed back to the front desk where Jamie was still idling - probably waiting for the attractive receptionist that made a habit of being late, but would never be fired because she was "thick where it counted", or so he heard as others objectified her.

"Jamie!" he barked. "I was expecting a package yesterday. Matt said you were here?"

Jamie shrugged. "Only the standard shipment was delivered with parts for the shop." Jamie used to be friendly to Duo, but nowadays he was curt and less than helpful, knowing the long-haired man was giving him the cold shoulder for what he said to Heero at the birthday celebration. He threw his thumb over his shoulder and said: "I stacked everything in the back; you're free to check, but not on the boss' time."

The American narrowed his eyes at the jab. "And you're not supposed to be checking out the receptionist on the boss' time."

Jamie turned his head to show him a lopsided smirk. "Everyone else does it - everyone but you."

"Whatever." Before the conversation went any further South, Duo walked away. He worked diligently on the rare Citroën, knowing he had a deadline to meet, and then spent his entire lunch hour searching through the storage space in the back, checking the label on every box to make sure his custom parts hadn't been mistakenly added to the shop's regular stock. When the lunch hour ended, he went back to work, his stomach rumbling in protest at being ignored.

During his coffee-break later in the afternoon, Duo hastily ate the sandwiches he had packed for lunch, while holding his cellphone to his ear as he waited for customer service to help locate his undelivered package. As it turned out, the deliveryman stopped by after business hours, and the package had been diverted to the post office; Duo could pick it up there whenever it was convenient. He'd have to ask Quatre if he could borrow his car some time to go pick it up; the box was too big to go fetch on his motorcycle.

Relieved that his expensive parts hadn't been lost, Duo felt better getting back to work, and found it easier to focus on his job than earlier that day. However, he was disappointed that he wouldn't get to fit his "baby" with the new covers and take her out for a spin. The upside was getting to head home early and have dinner with Heero, his other "baby", if you will - ha, if only! - after all. He was eager to continue putting the screws on him, now that it was apparent that Heero was starting to crack under the pressure.

At the end of the workday, he said his goodbye to Matt, the owner, and the girl at the reception, ignoring Jamie who was lingering around her. He walked briskly, hoping Heero hadn't started on dinner for himself yet since it was still early. He hoped they could make it a pizza-night - that would give him more time to put the moves on him.

Duo opened the front door to the apartment and was about to announce his presence, when he noticed a jacket sprawled on the living room floor. He wasn't sure if it was Heero's jacket or not; he had never seen it before, but Heero had so many clothes, he could never be sure. There was a shoe lying at the mouth of the hallway too - that was definitely Heero's: one of his favorite, black booties.

Duo opened his mouth to speak - to send a confused "Hello?" into the silent space - when a drawn out, gravelly moan hit his ears and then hit him in other parts of his body too. His mouth remained open, his jaw slack. His fingers tightened on the doorknob. He wished he could stop his heart from beating so furiously because it seemed like it would drown out all other sounds, but then he heard it again, loud and clear.

"Ahhh! ... Yesss..." The word was hissed.

The American cast his gaze down at the jacket. Was it Heero's? Was it someone else's? Did he get Heero so worked-up that morning, that he brought some random guy home after work for relief? Duo's throat constricted at the thought of someone else getting the opportunity to alleviate Heero's tension - tension that he caused.

About to lose himself in the throes of self-loathing, he took a step back. He had every intention of shutting the door and running out of the building, but then he heard another strangled moan. A name. His name.

"Duo..."

Duo's entire body went rigid and he looked around skittishly. Does he know I'm here? He was about to panic, thinking he had been caught, but then the moans continued and he realized what was going on.

"Ohh, Duo, fuck-! Fuck me..." Followed by a high pitched, delighted squeak. "Ah- Ah! You feel so good!" Heero's voice was strained with pleasure.

Holy shit, he is masturbating to the thought of me, Duo's mind supplied before shutting down; he just stood there in the doorway, nailed to the threshold.

The moans continued to pour into the living room for him to hear; it was apparent Heero's bedroom door was wide open. He heard Heero masturbate and have sex before, but the sounds were always muffled and barely audible - the apartment had good, tick walls and doors. He could hear him crisply now, almost like he was on the couch right in front of him - displayed for him to see - not in his bedroom around the corner, out of sight.

Duo had no problem letting his imagination run wild. He envisioned Heero on his back, spread out on top of the sheets, tossing his head, further messing up his hair; and arching his back into his own touches. His skinny jeans and underwear still caught around one ankle; his shirt pushed up to his collarbone. He had never seen Heero naked - he hadn't seen many men naked, in fact, let alone aroused - but it wasn't his first time fantasizing about his roommate. He imagined him stroking his erection with one hand while the other was pushed further between his legs, touching himself even more intimately.

His curiosity - the not knowing but yearning to find out - added to Duo's own arousal. He wondered what it would be like to drink those deep moans straight from Heero's mouth. He wondered what it would be like to kiss the flat chest and suck on the small nipples. He wondered what it would be like to hold another man's needy erection, feeling the new weight and the new shape.

"Ah! Ah!" Heero's moans became more high pitched and urgent, and soon he reached his orgasm, moaning Duo's name in the most sensual way he had ever heard.

He wants me. The thought struck Duo like lightning. He took a step further into the apartment, only to stop himself. Not now, not like this, he told himself. He didn't want to risk embarrassing Heero, or upsetting him at having his privacy invaded. He was supposed to have the apartment for himself that evening; Duo told him he'd be working until late at the shop. It would be wrong to abuse the situation. If Heero wants me, he has to be honest about it - I want him to admit it. I don't want it to be a secret - another goddamned secret - that I just happened to find out about.

Duo steeled his resolved and backed out of the apartment, closing the door behind him as softly as he could, and trotted down the hallway and down the stairs. He idled in the lobby by the mailboxes, waiting for the problem in his pants to take the hint and solve itself, before he headed out and decided to kill time doing some groceries - and shamelessly stocking up on condoms and lube in anticipation.

He came home again twenty-five minutes later and hoped he could keep his cool, even though his face went red the moment he laid eyes on Heero. The jacket and the shoes had been cleared away, and his roommate stood in the kitchen at the stove, preparing a stir-fry of vegetables and chicken for himself. He was wearing sweatpants and a black t-shirt, and his hair was dark and damp from a quick shower he must have taken.

"Hey, you're home early," Heero noted before Duo could speak, never taking his eyes off the meal he was preparing.

Duo grinned sheepishly. Earlier than you think. "Yeah. My order didn't get delivered, so I couldn't work on my baby like I planned. So, I uh-" He held up the bag of groceries rather than finish his sentence. "I got us microwave mac-and-cheese, but I guess you're set." He walked into the kitchen, put the bag on the counter and started unpacking.

"Yeah. Sorry, if I had known you'd be home earlier, I would've made more - save you from that awful mac-and-cheese..."

"Hey! I happen to love this shit. The cheese on these is so good," Duo said with a gratuitous moan as he retrieved the packaged meals from the plastic bag.

Heero scrunched up his face. "That cheese is one molecule removed from being plastic."

"And I happen to like it," he argued. "So, uh, did you just get home, or-...?" He inconspicuously set aside the plastic bag that contained the two boxes of condoms and bottle of lube, placing it on the floor by the mouth of the hallway to take into his room later.

"No, half an hour ago." After answering, he bothered to actually check his watch and amended: "A little over."

"Took a nice, long shower?"

"Hmhm."

Duo came to stand beside him, leaning the small of his back against the counter. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and watched Heero's long fingers handle the spatula, twisting and turning it as he stirred sauce through his vegetables. Those fingers would look good wrapped around a dick, his dirty mind supplied, his own or Heero's; either was fine.

"So, you must be pretty pissed about that delivery not coming in."

It took Duo a moment to gather his thoughts - get them out of the gutter. "Yeah. She's so close to being done; I was looking forward to it."

Heero scoffed. "Close to being done? You've been saying that for as long as I know you. You always keep replacing parts."

"Well, that's because they keep upgrading and I want my baby to have the best of the best. We all have our vices." He leaned forward and nudged Heero with his shoulder. "Miss Shopaholic."

His roommate blinked at him, the steady, circular movement of the spatula coming to a halt. It seemed like he was trying to determine if Duo was insulting him or just teasing. Recognizing the comment as the latter, his mouth formed a little smirk and he mock-gasped. "Oh, my God, drag me."

Duo laughed at the slang term. "I'm just kidding," he felt the need to say. "I love that you're so into fashion."

"Speaking of clothes," Heero eyed his dirty work-shirt pointedly. "Go change into something clean and I'll pop your disgusting mac-and-cheese into the microwave."

Duo's eyes lit up at Heero making sure they'd have dinner together, even though they wouldn't be eating the same meal. He pushed off the counter with a "yes, ma'am" and headed into his bedroom, remembering to pick up the bag along the way. He changed into sweatpants and a T-shirt, much like Heero, and took a moment to re-braid his hair since it had become a mess after a long day at work. He would have to shower and wash his hair after dinner - he was already dreading it.

He returned to the kitchen right as the microwave beeped, and Heero was just plating up his meal. Duo ate his mac-and-cheese right out of the plastic container - "like an animal", his roommate would always scold him - so he grabbed it with the tips of his fingers, taking care not to burn himself and shuttled it over to the dinner table.

"Wanna pop open a bottle of wine?" He inquired, already scouring their modest wine-rack tucked away in the corner of the counter.

"It's a school-night," Heero shot back, but he made no other objections.

Duo picked out one of the nicer bottles and then seated himself next to Heero, bringing along two wine glasses.

"Are we celebrating something?" Heero asked as he eyed the fancier label while Duo poured him a drink.

"Isn't there always a reason to celebrate?" Duo smiled secretively to himself.

"Su~re, Mister Hallmark," Heero drawled, but cocked one eyebrow, demanding to have a more satisfying answer to his question.

"I just got really stressed-out this morning when it seemed like my package had gotten lost in the mail. I've been craving wine all day. At this point, only the good stuff will do."

Heero accepted that explanation and raised his glass for a toast, clinking it against Duo's, before taking the first sip and digging into his dinner.

As Duo sat next to his roommate, he made sure their chairs were close enough together so he could surreptitiously bump his right elbow against Heero whenever he moved his fork through his mac-and-cheese. And, when he leaned over to top off Heero's glass of wine again, he made sure their shoulders touched. It delighted him that Heero didn't shy away from the touches. The Japanese man didn't even seem to register how close they had gotten, but rather than irk him, it warmed Duo's heart; Heero was so comfortable with their closeness that it no longer surprised him - it was just part of their "friendship'. Duo felt victorious; there was definitely cause for celebratory wine - everything was working out the way he had hoped. Heero allowed him into his life, into his personal space, and - if the erotic scene he \ overheard earlier was any indication - he was ready to welcome him in his bed soon as well. The wine only added to his warm and fuzzy feelings, and fueled the stupid grin he sported.

Too bad he had to wash his damn hair, or it would have been a perfect evening.

It was the next Saturday and Duo had been looking forward to pizza-night ever since walking in on Heero on Tuesday; he was disappointed by the news that his roommate planned to spend the day with his girlfriends, and go out to dinner with them. He had been anticipating sharing the couch with the smaller man, now that he knew he could be bolder in his approach. Instead, he ordered a single pizza for himself and popped open another bottle of wine. He was skipping through channels - bypassing the raunchy cartoon they normally watched together - and taking a bite from his first slice - spilling stringy cheese into his lap - when the front door opened and Heero appeared unannounced.

"Hey!" Duo greeted with a mouthful and nearly spat out the hot bite of pizza - too hot. He fanned his hand in front of his face and quickly swallowed the chunk of pizza because he couldn't stand the heat on his tongue any longer.

Heero shook his head at him and grinned, bemused by his awkwardness. He closed the door with a pop of his hip, then placed the single shopping bag he brought in on the floor. His hands free, he undid the clasps of his chunky, military-styled boots and kicked them off.

"Did you have a nice time with the girls? I thought you were going out for dinner as well?" Duo further cooled his mouth with a big drink from his wine glass - probably not the best idea.

"Yeah, it was fun, but I decided to skip on dinner. I love hanging out with them, but some days it's just too much."

"I can imagine." Duo never formally met any of Heero's friends, but he had been around Hilde and a group of her girlfriends; the thought alone of spending a day surrounded by their incessant chattering was exhausting. "Want pizza?"

Heero quirked an eyebrow. "I know you, Duo; half a pizza is not enough for you, and - honestly - it's not enough for me either right now. Two words for you: Hun. Gry." He patted his stomach to emphasize his point.

"We'll order another and we can share this one until the second gets here."

"Oh." Heero didn't need long to consider the offer. "Okay." He started for the couch.

"Wait, grab an extra glass of wine."

He nodded, spun around and went into the kitchen to do as advised.

On his way back, Duo asked: "What did you buy?" He nodded at the bag, abandoned on the floor.

Heero smirked; he put the glass down on the coffee table and gestured for the American to pour him a drink before he went to fetch it. Walking over to the couch, he said with a teasing tone: "You'd be proud. Or at least, I hope it bears your approval."

"Oh?" Duo had an inkling, but his curiosity was piqued either way. Heero to dramatically reveal his purchase, slowly producing it from the bag and holding it up to his frame; he artfully cocked his hips and shoulders in a pose. It was a classic red and black plaid shirt with subtle white striping. "Aww, baby's first lumberjack shirt!" Duo cooed in a jesting manner. "It's nice!" Heero probably paid way too much for the shirt, considering the brand name that was on the side of the bag; most of Duo's plaid shirts were from Old Navy.

Heero smile was beaming at the banter. "So I did good?"

He nodded. "I bet it looks great on you."

"It does," Heero agreed with a wink. He folded the shirt against his body, and set it on armrest of the couch. As he claimed his seat next to Duo, he picked up a slice of pizza.

As Duo went for his second slice, he inquired: "So, what made you come over to the dark side of Lumberjack-fashion?"

Heero shrugged. "Just felt like it. I was in the mood for something masc."

"Mask?"

"Masc. Masculine," he clarified offhandedly.

Masculine wasn't really a word Duo would ever use to describe Heero, let alone his fashion sense, although sometimes he did just pair his trademark skinny jeans with a simple shirt or hoodie; but on those days, it always felt like Heero wasn't himself. Duo was much more used to seeing him in form-fitted tops, stylish button-ups of silk or with a floral pattern; or bright cashmere sweaters, like that magenta one. Then again, Heero did always look very comfortable and at ease on those days; he liked a lot of different things when it came to clothes, which - in part - explained why he had so many.

Duo waited for Heero to finish placing the order at their usual pizza delivery place before he offered: "You could have just borrowed one of mine." The thought of Heero wearing his clothes was arousing, mostly because he fantasized about taking the article of clothing back from him - slipping it right off his shoulders - and hanging it back in his closet, letting it smell like that scent of vanilla, orange blossom and him.

"Maybe, if I like this one, I can try some of yours in different colors?"

Duo smiled at having his offer accepted so casually. "Yeah, sure. Any time."

"Cool." Heero reached over and grabbed a second slice.

"Anything I could try on from your closet? Make it like a foreign exchange program?" Duo flashed him a grin.

Heero's lips tightened, and he stopped chewing on the mouthful of pizza, clenching his jaw shut instead.

Realizing he said something wrong, Duo quickly backtracked. "Never mind!" He tried laughing it off. "Probably not my style. Wouldn't fit me anyway."

A smile appeared on Heero's lips, but Duo couldn't be sure if it was genuine or rehearsed. "It's just that my clothes are pretty expensive, and you're not really mindful of whatever you're wearing." He pointedly looked down at the greasy stain in the front of Duo's grey sweatpants, thanks to the glob of molten cheese that fell on his lap earlier.

Duo scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. "Point taken. I get it." He did, but he had a feeling there was more to it. He had never been allowed access into Heero's room; it just seemed like he wasn't ready to change that to let him look in his overflowing closet.

He dropped the subject since he had a much more important objective in mind. Heero might be unwilling to let him enter his bedroom to look at his closet, but if he played his cards right, Duo hoped he would soon be allowed entry into his bedroom for other reasons. When the pizza delivery guy arrived, he used the opportunity to get up and answer the door, then - rather than return to the same spot - he seated himself closer to Heero, lining his right leg up with Heero's left, and balancing the warm pizza box on their knees, supposedly for easy sharing.

"You did not ask them to put pineapple on it," Duo said, dead-serious, when he spotted the pieces of fruit on top of the pizza.

"Sorry! I told them to only put pineapple on one half," the Japanese man explained, but a mistake had been made as pineapple littered the entire meal.

Duo got a slice from the box and made a face as he picked off the pieces of warm fruit. He couldn't really be pissed about it, not when Heero's rumbling laughter filled his ears and his heart. "Think that's funny, huh? Fucking fruit on a pizza."

"Tomato is a fruit."

The bigger man eyed him sideways. "Tomato is a vegetable."

Heero tilted his head and looked at him with an 'are you serious?' expression. "It's a fruit," he insisted.

"Really?"

Heero let out a short, incredulous laugh. "...Yeah."

"Wow..." Duo shook his head and blinked up ahead. "Am I... stupid?"

Heero's rumbling laughter filled Duo's ears and his heart, making him mostly forget about his embarrassment. "Possibly."

"Are you absolutely certain it's a fruit?"

"Honey," Heero said colloquially, a cheeky tone to his voice. He pointed at himself and continued: "Tomato is as much a fruit as I am."

Duo didn't doubt him, but for whatever reason, he always thought of tomatoes as vegetables; maybe because they were used in savory dishes as opposed to sweet fruits. A short Google search on his phone and more self-deprecating comments later, he continued eating the pizza, picking off the pineapple as he went.

When they finished the second pizza, Duo put away the box and equally divided the remaining contents of the wine bottle between their two glasses. He sat back down and handed Heero his glass, letting their fingers meet on the stem during the exchange. Then he draped his arm over the back of the couch again, as he had done before. His bicep rested against Heero's left shoulder and his wrist touched the right shoulder. The black sweater the younger man was wearing was fuzzy - soft but also ticklish. Their legs were still lined up, touching from hip to knee.

"We're so fucking old," Heero commented after a while, biting back a chuckle.

"Huh?"

"Sitting on the couch, watching TV on a Saturday night. A fucking gameshow of all things." He gestured at the television.

Duo raised his eyebrows. "Did you want to go out?" He wasn't opposed to the idea - it might have been exciting - but he preferred to be alone with him.

Heero thought for a moment. "Nah." He tilted his head back to drink the last drop of wine from his glass.

"Want more?"

"Yes, please," he said sweetly.

Duo didn't want to get up, but he aimed to please. With a groan, he straightened up and then playfully jostled Heero's foot when the younger one teased "you are old". He walked into the kitchen and fetched another bottle of wine at random. He filled both their glasses with an obscene amount - they both had to take care not to spill the red liquid over the rim - then positioned himself on the couch exactly as he had before. The second bottle of wine didn't last long, and the gameshow made way for a talent show, whose embarrassing contestants had them giggling. Duo had shifted his arm so the full weight of it rested around Heero's neck, and Heero pretty much used Duo's leg as an arm rest, laying his wrist on it and putting his wine glass on his knee, holding it lightly by the foot to keep it balanced.

As Heero chuckled whenever a contestant made a fool of himself in front of the unforgiving judges, his body shook against Duo's. Duo found himself unable to resist the temptation to tighten his hold on Heero's shoulders, eventually hooking his arm around his neck, letting his hand dangle to where his fingertips grazed the soft fuzz of the sweater over his chest. His roommate was securely tucked under his armpit, and made no objections.

The talent show came to an end and, tired from his long day with his friends and the alcohol, Heero leaned his head against Duo and closed his eyes. Duo's heart swelled and the tips of his fingers became more purposeful; he lightly rubbed them up and down on Heero's chest, only about an inch above his nipple. A pleasant sigh escaped the younger man, and his head became heavier on Duo's shoulder as he fully relaxed and surrendered to the touch. Duo turned his head, nuzzling his nose into the wild hair, and then placed the most tentative kiss on his temple. His heart was beating a mile a minute; if Heero didn't hear it, then he must have at least felt it, because Duo was certain his entire ribcage rattled with the force of it.

He exhaled a hot breath into Heero's ear. "I wanna see you in that plaid shirt," he whispered. "Only in that plaid shirt..." He watched as Heero pulled his bottom lip into his mouth with his front teeth, biting on it absentmindedly, before letting the plump lip fall back into place - wet and glistening - leaving his mouth slightly open to suck in a shuddering breath.

Then, suddenly, his blue eyes flew open and he straightened up in his seat, letting cold air rush the side of Duo's body that he had kept warm. He kept his face turned away as he muttered to no one in particular: "Too much..." He stood up, put down his wine, and smoothed a hand over his clothes.

"Wait... No..." Duo whined and he reached out, grabbing Heero's hand.

Heero looked at him over his shoulder, then down at their joint hands. He chuckled nervously. "We're not doing this, Duo," he warned; his voice was strained but not angry, giving Duo hope that he was denying them both what they wanted, and the disappointment wasn't just one-sided.

The American let his hand drop down into his lap and used it to adjust himself in his sweat - his erection was positioned uncomfortably in his underwear. The intimate moment on the couch had been unbelievably arousing, and controlling his libido wasn't made easier by the fact that he hadn't invited anyone to help him tend to his sexual needs in a while - "saving himself" for that anticipated moment with Heero. "Why not? We both want this," he asserted, feeling confident.

Heero didn't deny that he, indeed, wanted it as well. He grabbed the new shirt off the armrest and stuffed it back in the bag. "I'm not going to ruin another good thing in my life, Duo. We've been over this: I like what we have; I don't want to wreck it, like how I wrecked what I had going with Logan. He was my fuckbuddy and that worked. I shouldn't have tried to make it more than it was. You are my roommate and-...." He let out an exasperated sigh, "and my friend, I guess. It's not meant to be more." He finally looked at Duo again and his gaze was quick to notice the erection tenting the front of the sweatpants. He stared for as long as two heartbeats before forcing himself to look away, but not without biting on that delicious-looking lip again.

"It's not fair," Duo groused.

The other chuckled at his childlike demeanor in the face of another rejection. "I'm sorry."

"What am I supposed to do with this?" Duo pointed at the problem standing at attention in his lap.

"Jerk off." Heero shrugged. "I know I'm going to." Without any further ado, he spun on his heels and sauntered into his bedroom, closing the door behind him with a definitive click.

Holy shit. Rather than seeking the privacy of his own bedroom, Duo slipped his hand under the waistband of his sweats, and worked his hand into his briefs to envelop himself. There was an urgency that could not be denied.

He was loud, he didn't hold back. He knew Heero would be able to hear him, if only faintly across the distance of the hallway and through the closed door. But knowing that he would hear him, and knowing that he was also masturbating, eliminated the need of having to exaggerate his moans - they spontaneously poured from his lips in a loud volume. When he was quiet long enough, he caught the sound of a high-pitched, needy cry coming from his roommate's bedroom; it was the last thing he needed to tumble over the edge and come in his pants, his hand furiously pumping up and down to milk himself.

"Ohhh, fuck..." He let his head fall back on the back of the couch and stupidly grinned up at the ceiling. "Baby steps, Maxwell. Baby steps."

Chapter6

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