"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 SEVEN - Her

They didn't have sex again and nothing changed about their friendship. Maybe he should have been grateful that nothing had been damaged, but Duo resented the lack of change. Heero acted like nothing had happened. The American thought they were making progress, but even after two tousles in the sack, he had still been friend-zoned all the same.

He couldn't help but feel like he failed an audition, but he didn't know what he did wrong. All he wanted was to be an attentive lover; naturally, that meant having some questions. Was Heero really upset about him asking how to stimulate his prostate better? It would be a silly thing to be upset about, in Duo's opinion, especially considering the favorable results once they did change their position.

He wished he could talk to Heero about it, but he didn't want to come across as the clueless idiot that his friend already took him for, and further irk him with his lack of experience. He considered taking his problems to Quatre, but decided against it. He couldn't trust the blond not to interfere - since he was caught between two camps - and he'd probably just tell Duo what a huge mistake he was making, and remind of that damn secret that was supposed to be such a big deal but no one would tell him about.

He turned to the only other person he could think of: Hilde.

She looked agitated seated across from him at the same lunch room as ever, listening to him talk about what had transpired between him and Heero. Honestly, she had no right to give him attitude about this - this being all her fault after all. If she had kept her smart mouth shut, Duo could have continued to live in a blissful state of ignorance.

"Maybe you should just take the hint," she surmised before he even finished telling the story. She had her arms crossed and hadn't even touched her salmon linguine yet.

"The hint?"

She rolled her eyes. "Come on, Duo. You had sex; you gave it the good ol' college try. It didn't work. He's not into you."

"But he is! He wanted me, I saw that, with my own two goddamn eyes," he burst, not caring about the stares he was getting from the old ladies seated one table over. "He's holding back for some reason."

"If that's true," Hilde interjected, "If he really is interested, but decided not to act on that, then the hint is still the same: forget about it." She stabbed her fork into her pasta, but then changed her mind and drank from her wine instead.

Duo frowned at her. She wasn't herself. "What's gotten into you?"

"Duo, I've listened to you whine about Heero for over half a year now. There's nothing left to say."

"You told me to go for it!"

"Yeah! And you did. You made a good effort, kudos. But it's just not happening. At a certain point, a good friend - which I am - has to stop supporting these useless endeavors and give you a reality check. This is it."

"Wow..." Duo stared down into his glass of wine. "If I had known you'd be like this, I might as well have gone to Quatre..." he muttered bitterly.

"Sorry, Duo, but I'm not your on-call Doctor Feel-Good." She took a bite of her pasta only to make a face at the fact that it had gone cold. She put the fork down again and seemed torn about whether or not she wanted to continue the discussion. She leaned forward, putting her elbows on the table and asked him: "When was the last time you've even asked me how I was doing?"

Duo blinked up at her and immediately felt extremely guilty; he couldn't remember when they last talked about her life.

"I've hardly seen you since Heero's birthday. And whenever we meet up, he's all you ever want to talk about. I've always been fine with being your Plan B whenever you can't hang out with Quat - or don't want to, apparently - but the least you could do is not ignore me."

"You're right. God, you're so right."

"You've always been obsessed with him, but this is new level."

He nodded in agreement. "Totally. I get it. I'm sorry; I didn't mean to make you feel ignored. I'll be a better friend from now on; if not, you are free to kick me under the table."

"Okay. I will." Hilde took another bite of her pasta and made the same face; it was still cold.

Duo readjusted in his seat and leaned forward to give her his undivided attention. "So... What's new with you? Tell me everything."

Hilde shrugged and finished her wine. "Nothing to say really."

"Come on! I'm not just asking; I really want to know. I care about you!"

"Sure, how could you not?" She flashed him a smirk. "But really, there's nothing to say."

Duo laughed. If she had nothing to share, couldn't she have let him rant on about Heero for a little longer? "No new beau?"

She made a noncommittal, little sound. "Not quite."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I'm working on it."

"Meow," he purred at her sassy turn. "Go get 'im, girl."

She laughed uncomfortably and brought the wine glass to her mouth again, tilting it against her lips to drink the very few last drops.

They were supposed to go to the movie theater after lunch, but once Duo flagged down a waiter to tell him to rush with the check or else they wouldn't catch the movie on time, Hilde told him that she forgot about other plans she had for the afternoon, and needed to skip out on the movie. Duo didn't even get the chance to question her lame and vague excuse; she wished him a nice day, grabbed her purse and walked away in a hurry.

He assumed he had a lot of making up to do for his neglectful behavior of the past few months.

It was a Saturday and Duo had to work at the shop. They had been restoring a vintage Ford for a photoshoot, but the paint job had been botched, and the redo delayed their reassembly of the car. With the photoshoot on Monday, and the car still in bits and pieces in the shop, it was all-hands on deck. At least it was better than the usual, Saturday morning oil changes.

Just as he was getting ready to leave the apartment, Heero emerged from his bedroom and headed straight for the coffee machine.

"Good morning, doll," Duo quipped.

"Good morning, loverboy," Heero teased right back. The way he rolled his R was incredibly sexy.

"Busy day ahead?"

"Hm. Oh, yeah, su~per busy," he deadpanned as it was clear he had a well-deserved day of doing nothing ahead of him. "You?"

"The Ford."

"Aw, Miss Splotchy getting ready for her close-up."

Duo chuckled. "They redid the paint job; she'll look flawless once she's all put together. Mark will be watching us like a hawk to make sure we don't scratch her."

Heero mock-gasped. "But what if she likes it a little rough?"

Duo happily played along. He knew Heero still wanted him - it was obvious in the way he kept playing with him - but he didn't understand why Heero didn't just take him; after all, he had been presenting himself on a silver platter. "Nah, classy lady like her likes it smooth and loving."

"You don't know her. Don't judge a book by its cover." Heero's tone became more serious, which caught Duo off-guard; then he shrugged and cradled his coffee mug in his hands, taking the first, grateful sip to wake him up.

The American closed the lid on the plastic container in his hands, sealing in his lunch. He looked at his fingers; they were clean now, but they would be greasy by the end of the day - he enjoyed the thought of that. His hands were big, and roughened by ten years of manual labor. They were nothing like Heero's hands, which were slender and soft, with manicured and painted nails. His gaze drifted from his own hands to Heero's, and goosebumps appeared on his skin as he remembered the feel of those long fingers delving into his hair and caressing down his arms, even though their second and last time was nearly two weeks ago.

"Pizza night tonight or do you have plans?" Duo asked, clearing his throat first but his voice still sounded strained.

Heero hardly ever made plans for Saturday evenings anymore; Duo suspected it was because he enjoyed their nights on the couch together as much as he did. "I'm all yours." He smiled sheepishly and pretended it was a slip of the tongue, but his seductive tone suggested it was anything but accidental. "I mean: I don't have any plans."

Duo met his gaze, submerging in those pools of blue. A shiver passed through him. "Cool." He glanced down at his watch and realized he was running late. "I have to go, shit! I guess I'll be home around six? Six thirty?"

His roommate quirked an eyebrow at him. "Don't ask me, I don't know."

"Right." He shook his head at how awkward he was being. "Probably closer to six thirty."

"Hmhm," Heero agreed. "Beauty takes time."

"What?"

"The car."

"Oh, right. I'll see you tonight." With big steps, Duo walked towards the door.

"See ya."

He waved goodbye halfheartedly and then left the apartment, breaking out into a jog to make up for some of the lost time. When he arrived at the shop, Jamie was out front, standing in the pretty clerk's personal space. Duo intended to ignore his homophobic colleague, but as he walked past the counter to the door in the back, Jamie commented on his tardiness.

"You're late."

Duo halted and checked his watch. "Three minutes."

"Late is late, Maxwell." Jamie sounded victorious, like an annoying little brother who was going to tell mommy on you.

"I'm sure Mark will forgive me. I see you're hard at work," he deadpanned.

"I just needed Alicia to print me a new copy of my work schedule."

"He keeps losing his worksheets," the pretty girl supplied.

"I'm sure he does." Duo walked away and took a second to calm himself by his work stations, before going into the main work area of the shop where two of his colleagues and his supervisor were already at work assembling the Ford.

"Sorry I'm late, Mark."

The older man made a dismissive gesture. "It's fine, I'm just relieved you could come in on short notice."

"No problem, got to get her ready for her close-up with Mister DeMille."

Mark frowned, the reference went right over his head. "Mister DeMille?"

"Yeah. Sunset Boulevard? It's a classic movie."

Mark laughed it off. "The only classics I know are on four wheels, Maxwell."

"Yeah," Jamie interjected himself into the exchange as he walked in. "Me too. But you know Maxwell, Mark. He's more 'sensitive' than us."

Mark didn't catch the jab and simply went to work, clapping his hands and urging his employees to work quickly but carefully. Duo, however, did take note of the insult, but he wasn't going to let Jamie bait him. He wished Quatre had never extended the younger guy a pity invite to his birthday. Not only did Jamie behave like the total asshole he was to Heero, it seemed he had formed some interesting opinions about his coworker since meeting his gay best friend and his gay roommate. Duo knew damn well what kind of assumptions Jamie made, and he was fine with them. He didn't mind anyone thinking that he was gay, even if it wasn't the whole story; guys like Jamie weren't entitled to the whole story anyway. Getting harassed about his supposed sexuality wasn't anything new to Duo either, but it did hit him harder than it used to.

Heero had been right: it was harder to ignore the hate when it didn't hit home anyway; now that he knew the truth about himself, he felt more attacked when someone questioned his masculinity. Not because he ever doubted his masculinity, but because no one had the right to assume he was any less of a man because he could also be attracted to other man. More importantly, no one had the right to imply that being a less masculine man - like being more "sensitive" - was a bad thing. Quatre and Heero definitely weren't masculine, but considering that they have been dealing with this kind of homophobic bullshit their entire lives, and still braved the world as their authentic, non-masculine selves; they were bigger and stronger men than weasels like Jamie.

During the morning, Mark berated Duo a couple of times for manhandling parts and not being mindful enough of his tools. He hadn't caused any damage, but he wasn't being as careful as he should have been, losing himself to angry thoughts. He didn't know why that day was different, and why Jamie had been able to worm his way under his skin all of a sudden, after being able to deflect his attempts at starting a conflict for months now. But he had an inkling suspicion it had something to do with his frustration at how things were going between him and Heero.

Their friendship was better than ever, but Duo had gotten a taste of something even more perfect, and as a result, the friendship he had craved ever since moving in with the Japanese man was no longer enough. He wanted more, and Heero wanted more too, but the man refused to let them have it.

Jamie became a lightning rod for pent-up frustration.

During lunch break, it went wrong.

Duo retreated to his own little workstation, away from the rest of the guys, and played a silly game on his phone to keep anyone from talking to him. The Game-Over screen had flashed something like six times by the time Jamie poked his head into Duo's private area. He looked up from his phone briefly, to confirm it wasn't Mark needing him for anything. Seeing Jamie's stupid grin, he quickly redirected his attention to the game and took a big bite from his sandwich, hoping his unwelcome coworker would take the hint.

No such luck. "I think you might have dented the back bumper."

Duo's brows pinched together. He was pretty sure he hadn't, but his heart still skipped a beat and his palms became sweaty at the possibility. "No, I didn't," he argued with a mouth full, but he didn't even sound sure of himself.

"Yeah, man. There's totally a dent in the rear bumper, and you were the one who attached it, right?"

Duo grumbled under his breath; he put aside his lunch and phone, then got up from his stool. He pushed past Jamie - who didn't step aside to make room for him in the doorway - and walked onto the main floor. The other guys were lounging around, not paying the two any attention, since they were on their hard-earned break. He walked around the car and looked down at the chrome bumper. He couldn't see any flaws in the surface; still, he kneeled down to examine the shiny surface more closely. That was when he noticed a small dent to the right of where the license plate would be. Mortified, he ran his thumb by it, feeling the dip in the metal. He searched his memory, but if he had been too rough when he mounted it, he would have - at most - scratched it as he put it in place. He had done nothing that could have caused a single, so sharply defined dent.

"I didn't do that," Duo objected; his voice was a little squeakier than intended.

"It's cool man. I get it. You're used to handling the rear bumper a little roughly," Jamie quipped with a smirk.

Duo sprang upright and stepped close, making sure to remind Jamie how much taller and bigger he was - feeling the need to, all of a sudden. There was definitely a spike of testosterone in his blood. "I didn't do that!" He bellowed.

The other three men looked up from their lunch.

"You put it on there," Jamie pointed out.

"I didn't cause that random-ass dent, Jamie!" He poked his finger into the other's chest.

Mark rose from his seat and rushed over. He crouched by the rear fender and traced around the dent with his fingers. His panicked expression transitioned into relief. "It's okay, Duo, it's clean. We can punch and polish it out."

"I didn't do it!" He insisted. He fixed a dangerous glare on Jamie. "You set me up!"

"What the fuck?"

"You made that dent on purpose!" Duo accused. "Why? Just so you could make that lame rear-bumper-joke? What is your fucking deal?"

Jaimie raised his hands and looked to the others for support. "I didn't do shit, man. Calm the fuck down."

"Rather than bickering, you two should just get to work on getting this chrome smoothed out again," Mark tried, physically inserting himself between the men.

"Boss, this is bullshit! Jamie is trying to fuck with me!"

The younger man scrunched up his face. "You wish. Goddamn drama queen."

Duo's arm snaked out with lightning speed, right by Mark's shoulder which was unable to block him. His fingers twisted into the fabric of Jamie's grey overalls, and he ripped the other man off his balance and towards him, not even mindful of the fact that Jamie crashed into their boss as Duo pulled the bully to him. "Go ahead, say it!" Please call me a Faggot so I can punch your lights out. He wanted to punch Jamie in his smug face ever since Heero told him what Jamie had done and said the last time he came to the workshop.

Strong fingers grabbed his wrist. Not Jamie's, but Mark's. "Duo," the older man warned, "let go of him right now." His tone left no room for argument.

Duo unclenched his fist; once he was free, Jamie took a step back. Duo kept his dangerous glare fixed on him until his boss spoke again.

"You're done for today."

He blinked at Mark. "What?"

"You damn well heard me, Maxwell. You're done. Get your ass out of my shop and don't come back until you've sorted out whatever it is that needs sorting out."

"I'm fine!"

Mark simply shook his head and that was the end of the discussion.

The sudden rage left him with a racing heartbeat and labored breath. After a moment of silence and shock, Duo retreated, ducking his head between his shoulders. With every passing second, he understood his own anger less and less. He grabbed his phone and what was left of his lunch, and he headed out.

"Hey, Duo. Punching out early?" Alicia asked. It wasn't like him to leave before the workday was over. He didn't respond. He pushed the door open and left.

He thought he could handle it. He thought he had been handling it. But clearly, he had been mistaken.

The secrets, the unrequited affection, the confusion, the sexual tension, the arguments with Quatre and Hilde and constantly worrying about Heero... It was too much. He hadn't realized how thin he was spread, like too little butter on too much bread, until Jamie took a bite. Hilde was right: he was too obsessed and it wasn't healthy and it wasn't doing anyone any good. Something had to change, because he hadn't been himself lately and he liked being himself. Either Heero had to get past himself and give Duo another chance, or the teasing and the confusing "platonic" closeness had to stop; it wasn't just playing with his heart anymore, it was fucking with his mind.

To ensure that he wouldn't blow up again during his confrontation with Heero, Duo took a detour through the park and planted himself on a bench for half an hour, taking a breather. He tried to figure out how to approach it best.

"Just tell me your secret and let me decide if I can handle it or not. I don't need you to protect me," he rehearsed as he started on his way home. He talked disjointedly to himself: "Give me a chance... I'll prove you wrong... I know you want this too... Why don't you trust me?"

He felt conflicted about him dumping his feelings on Heero on his day off. It seemed like he had really been looking forward to spending a quiet day by himself, but he couldn't keep everything bottled up any longer. He couldn't go home and pretend like he hadn't wanted to choke the life out of someone.

Standing in front of the door to their apartment, Duo took one last, deep breath and it came out trembling. He was scared about presenting Heero with an ultimatum; he feared Heero had already given him an answer and - right or wrong - wasn't going to budge. But he had to try. He had to make one last effort, and if he had to let it go, then maybe now he would finally be able to.

He could already hear the music on the other side of the door: a pop song from the nineties. When he opened the door, the music became louder instantly.

"Heero?" Duo called out, but at that volume, he knew it was useless. He closed the door behind him and walked further into the apartment, looking left and right to confirm that Heero wasn't in the living room or in the kitchen. He stood at the mouth of the hallway and looked down at the door at the very end.

The door was open, which never happened. Heero kept his bedroom private. In four years, Duo had never been allowed to step foot in his room and had only caught glimpses when he happened to be in the hallway while Heero slipped in or out of it It was one of those weird things that his roommate did to keep him at arm's length.

He felt guilty, like he was doing something forbidden - and he probably was - but hey, the door was open. He paused and studied the part of the bedroom that he could look into. He saw a modern, white dresser and part of the bed; a black, iron frame, white, satin sheets and a fluffy, sheepskin rug underneath. Tossed into the corner were a ton of throw pillows, and the floor was littered with discarded clothes.

I presume that's not Chanel on the floor, Duo thought to himself, bemused. "Heero?" It was hopeless with the way the female vocalist was belting and riffing for her life. He headed down the hallway and two voices whispered in either ear.

Don't do it, you're not allowed. The door might be open, but he wasn't expecting you to be home.

Go for it. It's another one of his stupid rules. Besides, it's better to ask for forgiveness than permission.

Before he could even give either thought the consideration that it deserved, he was already standing in the doorway although he couldn't even remember taking the last three steps down the hallway.

The bedroom was simple - sparsely, yet elegantly, decorated. The double doors of the big closet were swung open and clothes poured out. The curtains on the window were drawn.

Directly to the right of the door was a well-lit, white vanity, the surface cluttered with small items that didn't immediately register with Duo. His gaze concluded the room-tour settling on his roommate, seated in front of the mirror.

His eyes widened; Duo's presence going unnoticed by Heero couldn't have lasted longer than two seconds, but it was enough for Duo to see everything that he wasn't supposed to see.

Heero sat with both feet planted on the floor, fit into black pumps with an impossibly high heel that forced his feet to arch. He was dressed - barely dressed - in thigh-high stockings with a lace trim, black, lace panties and a matching bralette top that fell shapelessly down his flat chest. His bangs were pinned back with a sparkling hair clip. He looked at his own reflection with absolute concentration, applying an oxblood lipstick to complement the dark, smoky eye make-up.

He's a woman, Duo's mind supplied, with disregard for the oxymoron.

Heero's hand, holding the tube of lipstick, stilled and panic flashed in his eyes before he even took his eyes off his own reflection. He looked up at Duo. Time slowed down further, and the one observation that occurred to Duo was how his blue eyes looked even more beautiful framed by the black eyeliner, and contrasted with warm shades of brown and copper eyeshadow. That was entirely unhelpful. He stared, wide-eyed and shocked, not able to form his expression into something appropriate in the split second in which it all happened.

The poppy track stopped playing.

Heero slammed the lipstick down on the surface of the vanity, smearing the white with oxblood red. He covered himself with his hands as Duo kept staring. He placed one arm across his chest and lay the other hand down over his crotch. "Duo!" His voice was hoarse.

The next song started, blasting from the speakers, drowning out all sound, but there was no mistaking what Heero was saying as he screamed at Duo and tears streamed down his face. "GET OUT! GET OUT!"

Duo was frozen. He wasn't helping the situation by standing there, but he didn't want to just walk away. He wanted to say something comforting and reassuring, but his brain was drawing a blank and he lingered in the doorway as he struggled for words.

"GET OUT!" Heero doubled over to further shield himself and drew his knees up. Curled in on himself, he cried, letting out the most heart wrenching wails. With his groin out of sight thanks to his legs, he used that hand to hide his face.

There were no words. There was nothing Duo could offer him. He stepped out of the bedroom and then ran out of the apartment.

His feet took him to the park and he sat down on the same bench that he had occupied only fifteen minutes earlier. He would have laughed at himself if he felt like laughing. As if taking a breather in the damn park was going to help anything!

A small flock of ducks climbed out of the water and tentatively approached him, assuming he would be feeding them, like some old lady. Duo stomped his feet and waved his arms to chase them away, and they scattered back into the water.

Feeling lightheaded, he leaned forward and put his head between his knees. He took slow breaths to encourage the initial shock to wear off. All the things Heero said to Duo over the past couple of months, that didn't make much sense at the time, rushed back, pushing and pulling to be at the forefront of his thoughts. Everything fell into place - the reluctance to let Duo touch his penis during sex wasn't to spare his fragile I'm-new-to-all-of-this mind; it was because Heero was uncomfortable with it! Logan had encountered the same problem.

"I'm too much of a man for the 'straight' boys and I'm not man enough for the gay boys," Heero told him.

Even his day-to-day fashion had been part of the puzzle: he tried to dress himself more masculine from time to time, but mostly he just wanted to look as feminine as he could without resorting to cross-dressing in public - that he did in the privacy of his room. Finally, Duo also understood why - for four years - he wasn't allowed to even see into Heero's room; because his roommate didn't want him to see the make-up and the clothes and the shoes.

Not to mention all the little mannerisms that seemed much more women-like than something a man would do; little gestures that Duo had always brushed off as an expression of him being gay.

Heero was transgender...or transsexual? Duo would have to do more reading to figure out the distinction. His knowledge on the grey area of gender-identity was embarrassingly limited. He felt selfish for having spent so much time and effort exploring his own grey area - that of sexual attraction - without ever bothering to look beyond himself and really educate himself. Maybe if he had, he would have noticed sooner.

In hindsight - as the storm in his mind calmed - what shocked Duo most was how he had missed the signs. They seemed so obvious in retrospect. He resented himself for not having been more sensitive to the clues, then it wouldn't have caught him off guard and he wouldn't have reacted like such an idiot.

He groaned into his palms, visualizing what he must have looked like just standing there, staring at him, with his eyes wide and his mouth probably open too. He couldn't remember if his mouth had been agape; all he could remember was the wrecked expression on Heero's face as he knew his secret had been uncovered. His eyes had spoken volumes. Shame. Panic. Regret. Self-loathing. Things he must have been feeling for a long time, and then his roommate barges in and doesn't help matters by just staring at him like he was some kind of oddity.

Duo didn't know how long he stayed on that park bench, but he was drawing attention to himself. He relocated to a coffee shop where he found a poorly lit booth in the back so he could be alone with his thoughts. He ordered coffee, but didn't drink from the mug; he only ever really liked the coffee at home anyway. The taste of the coffee from their own coffee machine was the taste of home, and nothing could compete with that.

Cocooned in the cozy coffee shop he spent several more hours alone with his thoughts. Most of it was spent trying to imagine what Heero's life must have been like, and wondering when the Japanese man started to realize how different he was from others. Duo couldn't deny that he pitied him - that, in and of itself, made him feel even more guilty and self-conscious of his own privilege. Only one thing was apparent to him right away: he wasn't bothered by the thought of Heero being transgender or transsexual - damn, he'd really have to spent some quality time with Google to figure out what the right term would be. In fact, he wondered if that was the exact reason why he was attracted to Heero in the first place; maybe Heero was the exception to his heterosexuality because Heero wasn't really a man? But then again, he got really aroused being aware of Heero being a man when they had sex, and he enjoyed touching his body; enveloping his erection with his hand had given him a rush.

It was almost eleven at night when Duo knew he couldn't hide out at the coffee shop forever; the barista alerted him that the shop would be closing soon. Duo considered calling Quatre so he could spend the night at his place - to give Heero more space - but he didn't want his roommate to think that he was avoiding him because he was disgusted. He wanted to do the right thing, but he didn't know what that was. He decided to take the honest approach and ask.

He reached for his phone and typed to "Just my roommate": i want to come home. But if u need time or space, i can stay at Quatre's.

He pressed "send" and waited. There was a delay as he imagined Heero might be avoiding his texts, but then the other answered in rapid succession:

Are u at Quatre's?

Did u talk to him?

Did he say anything?

Duo didn't understand his concern. The secret was out; there was nothing left for Quatre to spill and Heero had to know that. He replied: No, i'm at a coffee shop. What i meant is i could go spend the night at Q's, if that's what u want.

"Just my roommate is typing..."

Then nothing.

The barista ushered him out of the shop so he could close up. Duo walked aimlessly through the streets, staring down at his phone.

"Just my roommate is typing..."

It's fine. It's your apartment too.

He was relieved by the response, taking it as a positive sign, although Heero was obviously less than enthusiastic.

i don't want to talk, Heero added.

OK, he typed, i'm coming home.

The apartment was dark and dead quiet. Walking down the hallway to his bedroom halfway, he saw the sliver of light under Heero's door, giving away that he was still up. Duo respected his request and didn't try to talk to him, even though he was dying to offer some words of reassurance, regardless of how hard he might fail to actually provide any comfort, given the situation. He changed out of his clothes and lay in bed. The pillow still smelled like Heero; Duo changed the sheets after they had sex in his bed, but he didn't change the pillow cases. He enjoyed the scent too much. He regretted that it was fading. Maybe it didn't even smell like Heero at all anymore, and it was just in his head.

Restless, he stared up at the ceiling, then decided to send one more text for the evening.

i know.

Two minutes later, Quatre replied: Come over 1st thing tomorrow.

Against expectation, Duo managed to get some sleep, drifting off somewhere around four AM; the next time he looked at the clock, it was nine o'clock in the morning. He looked and felt like a mess. He took a long shower and made himself breakfast and coffee. Heero was still hiding in his room. Duo could hear him quietly moving around, but it was obvious he didn't want to come out and run into Duo. Knowing he'd have to go to the bathroom and get himself food and something to drink, he knew it was a good thing he was going to meet Quatre. Heero needed some more space and time before any sort of confrontation could happen.

Duo was still in his sweats and a T-shirt, but he didn't bother getting dressed. He penned a quick note and stuck it to the refrigerator door.

I won't be back until the afternoon, I promise. And I'll text before I come home. I know you need me to not be around right now. Please let me know when you want to talk. I want to talk. I still love you, Heero.

He stepped into his shoes and left, making sure to close the door behind him loudly, so Heero would know he was gone. He didn't have to wait long for an Uber to come pick him up and take him to Quatre's house. He felt some trepidation as he stood on the doorstep and rang the bell. He wondered what Quare was going to tell him: was he going to help him understand, or was he going to rub his face in the fact that he shouldn't have gotten so involved before knowing "The Secret"?

The door was opened by Trowa; he didn't greet him, but with a little smile he simply said: "You look exactly the way I expected you to."

Duo's hair was still damp and disheveled, pulled back in a messy ponytail; his clothes were wrinkled; he knew he had bags under his eyes, so big the term "totes" came to mind as he appraised himself in the mirror earlier that morning. "Thanks."

"Come in." Trowa stepped aside to make room for him.

"Breakfast room?"

Trowa nodded.

Duo strode across the foyer, through the living room and navigated around the staff in the kitchen - nodding in response to their polite greetings. He found his blond friend where he knew he would be: seated at the table in the breakfast nook, looking a little less put together than normal. He must have had a restless night too, after receiving Duo's message.

"Hey," Duo said to announce his presence.

Quatre looked up from the croissant that he hadn't touched. "Duo, hey. Sit down." He gestured to the seat at the head of the table.

In a split second, Duo felt like a kid being called to the principal's office. He sat down with a nervous chuckle.

"So you know?" Quatre verified.

He released a sigh. "I sure do."

"How? Did he tell you?" His tone was skeptical.

"No." Duo frowned. "I assumed he would have called you..."

"I haven't heard from him. Why?"

"He was really upset." A thought occurred to him. "Or... she?"

Quatre's face was unreadable, offering him no clarity, making him doubt the pronoun all the more. "Why? What happened?"

"I walked in on him - her -... him. I- I don't want to sound insensitive, but I don't know," he rambled.

"But you said you know."

"I meant I know he's transsexual. Because I saw it."

Quatre's blond eyebrows pinched together. "Heero isn't transsexual."

"Transgender?" Duo tried. He didn't want to insult anyone - least of all Heero - by using the wrong terms, but he just didn't know any better.

Quatre shook his head. In that moment, Trowa appeared in the archway of the breakfast room; Quatre looked to him for guidance.

"What, exactly, do you think you know?" The tall man asked. He folded his arms and leaned his shoulder against the wooden frame of the arch.

"I came home early, unexpectedly. I got into a fight with Jamie at work -" At seeing their raised eyebrows he made a dismissive gesture, "- that's not important. It just meant I got sent home after lunch; Heero wasn't expecting me to be home until six. His bedroom door was open. I- I wasn't thinking! Or maybe I was. I don't know!"

"What did you see?" Trowa pressed.

"Her!" Duo shouted and, from the sudden silence in the kitchen, it was clear that he startled the staff with his outburst. "I saw her." It felt wrong to refer to Heero as "him" when speaking of the moment, even though both Trowa and Quatre nearly flinched at him using the female pronoun. "I saw Heero wearing panties, and stockings, and pumps, and lipstick, and eyeshadow!"

Quatre's eyes widened and he turned to his partner again for help.

Trowa was the epitome of calm, as he could always be counted on being. "Okay."

"Okay?" Duo mirrored. "Excuse me for not being cool as a cucumber right now. But I just found out that the man I am in love with is a woman. It is not okay - not because I'm not okay with him, but because of the look on his face. Heero was not okay."

Trowa gestured for him to calm down and he seated himself at the table. "Heero is not a woman," he started.

Quatre put a hand on his arm, stopping him before he could continue. "Do you really think it's our place to tell him?"

Trowa covered the small hand with his. "Do you think Heero wants to have this conversation with him right now? Duo needs to have a better understanding of the situation before he talks with Heero again."

There was some hesitation on Quatre's behalf - understandable, considering how long they had been protecting Heero's secret - but he nodded and let Trowa elaborate.

The man fixed an amicable, emerald green gaze on Duo and restated: "Heero is not a woman." Before Duo could argue against what he thought was unexpected narrowmindedness, Trowa continued: "Heero is gender fluid. He is neither male nor female, or both," he shrugged casually. "He hasn't figured it all out yet."

"Uhm... I'm confused."

"Gender fluidity? Non-binary gender identity?" Trowa tried.

"I've heard the terms, but..." Duo made a pathetic confused gesture.

"Well, as Quatre and I understand it - based on some reading that we've done, and how Heero has tried to explain it to us - gender isn't one or the other, in the same way that sexuality isn't one or the other, which is commonly accepted nowadays. Just like you are mostly straight - generally attracted to women - but you aren't completely straight, Heero is mostly male, but not completely. It's a spectrum."

"So... Okay..." Duo tried to wrap his brain around it. He put his hands on the table, about two feet apart. "Let's say this is the spectrum of sexuality," he said, looking pointedly at the space between his hands. "If this is gay," he wiggled his left hand, "and this is straight," he indicated with his right hand, "I'm like.... Here." He moved his left hand to point to a spot only a few inches left of his right hand. He put both hands back into position and then announced: "Now, if this is the spectrum of gender, and this is male," right, "and this is female," left, "where would Heero be?" He looked at Trowa and Quatre expectantly.

The two partners shared a look. "It doesn't really work the same," Quatre replied. "Heero isn't on a fixed point. I-" He stopped himself and looked back at Trowa. "I feel uncomfortable telling him this. It feels wrong."

"It's fine," Trowa assured him. "We've tried to help Heero by keeping his secret; now the best way to help him is to give Duo some perspective, so Heero doesn't have to stress about trying to explain this himself. I don't think Duo going in blind and asking him all kinds of questions is going to make matters better. We can ease the way."

The blond nodded, convinced by his partner's logic and he turned his attention back to Duo to finish what he had been saying. "Heero isn't at a fixed point on the spectrum. He told us he's mostly here," he reached out and tapped the table about three quarters of the way to Duo's right hand, indicating that he mostly felt like an effeminate male. "But sometimes he's closer to this end." He dragged his finger towards Duo's left hand until it was very close to it. "This is where he said he was last time I asked. He told me that he's been slipping back and forth from the middle to this end of the spectrum for the past two or three weeks."

"Oh," Duo remarked dumbly.

"I didn't think that meant dressing in lacy underwear, but I do know he's been trying new things - trying new ways to express himself when he's on this end of the spectrum. He's been ordering some women's clothing online. He has it delivered here."

Duo nodded; Quatre did tell him that Heero had his online orders delivered to the Winner-Barton household. He said it was because it was convenient, but now Duo understood it was because Heero didn't want him to even see the packages, being self-conscious about what was inside.

"He says dressing according to the way he's feeling helps put him at ease. It makes him feel more settled when he acknowledges it as something real. It wasn't always like that; he tried denying it for a very long time, but it was eating him up inside."

Duo took a deep breath and sat back. He let his hands slip from the table and cradled them in his lap. "Is it a recent thing?"

"The realization, yes. But I think it's the same as sexuality: you are born with it, but when you come to terms with it is different for everyone. The more complicated and confusing your identity is, the longer it takes, I think."

"You can sympathize with that," Trowa added.

Duo nodded. It took him a long time too because it wasn't as clear-cut as everyone had always told him it was supposed to be. "I don't understand though," he pointedly looked at Quatre, "when I told you that I had feelings for Heero, you got irked because I didn't want to identify myself as gay or straight, or even bi. Obviously, you're aware of the whole spectrum-thing - why did you try to fit me in a box?"

Quatre sighed. "I know...I'm sorry. Honestly, I've been a box-kind-of-guy all my life. I didn't know about Heero for very long, and I was still trying to grasp it. I guess I just wanted you to fit in a box to make it easier on me. It's been quite a roller coaster trying to help Heero through this, with all three of us not really knowing anything about it. It was unfair of me and I'm sorry."

Duo nodded again, accepting the explanation and the apology. He didn't feel like getting upset about it anyway; this wasn't about him. With furrowed eyebrows he wondered: "You keep referring to Heero as 'him'... but shouldn't it be...? I don't know... Is that right?"

"It's what he said he wanted," Trowa answered. "Since he isn't a woman either, he said he didn't like 'she' and 'her', and he especially doesn't like 'they' and 'them'. Regardless of where he's at on the spectrum, he's always been comfortable with 'he' - it's familiar, and he said he doesn't want people to overthink it."

"But when he's dressed like that," the image of Heero in the lingerie flashed before Duo's eyes, "doesn't it feel wrong to say 'he'?"

"We wouldn't really know; we've never seen him fully dressed in feminine attire," Quatre said. "But he told us that he doesn't find 'he' offensive."

"Oh." Another eloquent response.

"Does your head feel like exploding yet?" Trowa joked with an understanding smile.

"Yeah..."

"It's really not as all-changing as it seems right now," he told Duo. "No matter where Heero is on the spectrum, he is still himself. It hasn't affected our friendship with him. He's always just... Heero."

"But I'd understand if it's a little different for you," Quatre interjected. "Since you also... had romantic feelings for him."

"I still do," Duo stated matter-of-factly.

"You do?"

"It's like you said: he's still himself. I'm in love with Heero. I'm not in love with a man, or a woman; I'm in love with Heero."

"That's... very progressive and open-minded of you, Duo," Quatre looked hesitant, "but now that you appreciate how complicated matters are, wouldn't you agree that it'd be better - for both you and Heero - if you didn't make things... more complicated? I don't see it working."

"Maybe... but I'm not afraid, and I don't think Heero should have to be either."

With an uncomfortable expression, Quatre admitted: "Well, I told Heero that I didn't think it was a good idea, and he agreed."

"You talked to him about me?" Duo couldn't exactly be offended, since he oftentimes discussed the topic of Heero with Quatre.

"I told him that he really should figure himself out first, before piling on the pressure of another relationship."

"But he was really happy with Logan; he could be happy like that with me! I want to make him happy."

"I know you do - and I'm really impressed with how well you're taking all of this - but don't just jump into anything with the best intentions; I don't want Heero to get disappointed and heartbroken again. At least promise me that you'll think long and hard before you cross a line that can't be uncrossed."

Duo pulled down one corner of his mouth in a sheepishly guilty expression. "Like have sex, you mean?"

Both Quatre's and Trowa's eyes widened and they exclaimed in unison: "You had sex?"

"Twice..."

"Twice?!" They repeated as one.

"... Oops? I guess Heero keeps secrets from everyone."

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."

The partners shared a look, then Quatre said: "Wow... but wasn't he...?"

Duo nodded, knowing what he was referring to. He put his hand on the table in the spot that Quatre had indicated earlier, far into the feminine side of the spectrum. "He didn't really like me looking at him and touching...that. But... it was good." He couldn't stop the silly smirk. "It was great."

"Oh boy..."

Morosely Duo added: "I guess your 'advice' caused him to change his mind though."

"I'm sorry, but maybe that's for the better."

Duo chewed on the inside of his cheek. "Maybe..."

He stayed for lunch, and Quatre steered the conversation toward the mundane, to create an illusion of normalcy after the tense and intense discussion of that morning. Then he sent his longhaired friend home with a comforting hug and whispered, "Give it time - maybe someday," in his ear.

In the backseat of the car, Duo sent his roommate a text message to warn him that he was headed home - like he promised he would - and express hope that Heero would be there. In the meantime he also received a text message from Trowa:

i told him that we explained everything to u as best we could. He thanked us.

He was relieved Heero wasn't angry with his friends for filling in the blanks for him. He didn't want his stupid mistake to cause any more problems than it already had. He hoped that, now that he had some background information, Heero would be willing to talk with him. But when he returned, the apartment was quiet. Duo stood outside Heero's bedroom door, listening for signs that his roommate was home, but there was nothing to be heard.

He isn't here. He still doesn't want to see me.

Heero came home three days later, while Duo was back at work again for the first time. It had been an awkward and tense day, apologizing to Mark and side-stepping Jamie. When Duo arrived home, he knew it wasn't going to be a relaxing evening either. He knew he was coming home to someone as he stood on the other side of the front door; he heard muffled voices and identified the conversation as coming from the television. Silly as it felt, he made sure to rattle his keys, to alert his roommate that he would be coming in. He opened the door and stepped into his own home cautiously.

Heero was seated on the couch, with his knees drawn up to his chest. Balanced on one knee, held steady by his hands, was a cup of coffee. He looked at Duo with uncertain eyes, and then took a sip, stalling for time.

"Hey." Duo breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the other; the fact that he wasn't sprinting out of the room to avoid him was a good sign. "I'm glad to see you back here." He spoke carefully, mindful of the risk of saying the wrong things.

"Hn."

"Where have you been?"

"Drew's."

Duo nodded; he was grateful that Heero had his girlfriends to turn to - now more than ever. He toed off his work boots. "Can we talk?"

"I think Trowa and Quatre told you everything you need to know."

He tried not to wince at the cold and distant tone. "I'd like to talk to you...if that's okay."

Heero stared at him for a while, his gaze turning defiant. "I don't want to talk."

"Then will you at least listen? I want to apologize." Duo approached the couch but felt compelled to stop midway - Heero's glare was anything but inviting. "I shouldn't have looked into your room uninvited. And I shouldn't have just stood there like a sack of shit," he spoke with self-loathing. "I'm sorry about that. I was surprised, but I wasn't-"

"You don't have to lie to me, Duo," Heero interrupted and he turned his attention back to the news program.

"Lie?"

"Don't lie and say that you weren't horrified... and disgusted. I saw the look in your eyes," he spat, refusing to look at Duo again. "And I saw the look in your eyes just now. Pity and fear."

Duo shook his head at Heero misreading him. "No, that's not-"

"Don't lie to me!" Heero snapped and wild eyes regarded him again. "I know how you used to look at me and that's gone! I know what I'm seeing now! It's what I always see!" His voice cracked.

Maybe there was some truth to the accusation that Duo wasn't looking at him like he used to before. His gaze used to be lusty as he hungered for his roommate, but at the moment he was too preoccupied with his concerns. However, what Heero failed to realize was that both looks came from the same source: they were both based on his love for him.

"I don't feel differently about you, Heero," Duo promised, even though he knew Heero wasn't in the mindset to believe him. "I still love you."

"Oh, how gracious of you," Heero groused sarcastically.

"I know you're angry with me, and you deserve to be angry with me, so I'm going to let you," Duo said. It took all of his willpower, but he remained calm; he somehow managed to suppress the urge to fall to his knees in front of Heero, and weep all of the emotions that he kept bottled up that day so he could work at the shop. His heart hurt for him, as it had started to dawn on him these past few days how difficult Heero's life must have been; how torn and lost he must have felt. He needed Heero to believe that he still loved him, because he deserved to feel loved. "Nothing has changed for me. Maybe that's naïve, but fuck: I like girls, I like guys, and I love you. You are still perfect to me." He left Heero with that, knowing he needed more time to be able to accept it as truth.

Chapter 8

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