"Warheads"

Written By: ExecutiveShrimp

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

Rating: NC 17

Warnings: Post War, angst, fluff, psychological issues, lemon

Pairings: 2x1

Summary: Duo and Heero try to become more than comrades in their attempt to be normal young men. They settle down but find that peacetime is difficult to adjust to and with only each other to rely on, it is a struggle, especially for Heero.

" Warheads "

Part XXVIII - Pieces

There was a moment of pure breathlessness. A silent moment. The world hadn't been as quiet since the first creature crawled out of the primordial soup, from where life began in all it's busy and noisy glory. Even the anticipating gasps had died down and all that I could hear was the beating of my own heart, pumping blood through my ears in a rhythm of rushes. How time can slow down so marvelously and make even the most insignificant things in the grand scheme of the world seem like a matter of life and death, crushing us all under the thick blanket of illusionary importance... Hundreds of eyes focused on a single point in space, wide and shocked as well as naively hopeful.

Our fate would be decided.

The sound to break the immense silence that had taken on an existence of itself, was the sound of the basketball slamming against the backboard. The bounce resounded through the gym like a gunshot, with the same violent effect. The ball bounced back, back towards the polished floors of the court, missing the net by a good five inches. One of the players dove towards it, but before his fingers found the ball, the buzzer rang.

One half of the audience rose with an excited and victorious roar, throwing punches in the air and waving their flags and banners. The other half was quiet, stunned and defeated.

I think Sookie was the first of everyone on our side of the bleachers to speak.

"Wow." Was all she said.

"Wow, indeed." I seconded. My eyes settled on a tall figure at the heart of the court, still staring at the net of the opposing team with a gaze so intense it seemed like he was hell bent on turning back time with sheer will alone.

The winning team didn't congratulate our basketball players for a good game. The rivalry between the two school teams was too deep for that and they were too eager to celebrate their first win against our school in three years. Some of the players were lifted up high and carried off the court by an adoring legion of fans that seemed to lose themselves to Neanderthal ways as they booed at us and laughed at us and shaped their fingers into an L in front of their foreheads. The insult brought our section of the audience to life. The more fanatic sport fans returned gestures using different fingers and were making angry faces and balling their fists at the others.

I leaned in towards Sookie, my lips close to her ear so she could hear me above the growing hostility. "Let's get the hell out of here."

She nodded her head in agreement and followed me to the exit. At some point I felt her take hold of my hand as we wormed our way through the enraged crowd that was bordering on a riot. Alongside us, others fled the scene as well, mostly parents who had taken young brothers and sisters of the players to see the match that they were convinced they were going to win. Insulting banners regarding the opposite team still adorned the walls and ceilings throughout the entire school and had been for over a week. Now they were just an embarrassment.

We calmed down once we were safely outside. The sun was just about to set, a cooling evening wind was gathering strength, refreshing the land from an uncomfortably hot day.

"Wow." Sookie repeated as we walked towards the bus stop at the other side of the schoolyard.

"I can't believe they lost."

"'s their own damn fault. They got cocky. They haven't trained all week!" She sounded incredible frustrated, even though she wasn't much of a sports fan, basketball in the least. If she wasn't on the field herself, it never really bothered her.

"What are you so pissed off about?"

She shot me a look. "Ye're kidding right? Do ya know what this means? Our days as kings and queens - no pun intended - is over. They're goin' to kill Hunter for missing that shot and blame it on the "gay factor"."

"Surely their eyes have been opened lately. They must know by now Hunter has always been gay, that includes during all the games he won for the team."

"Oh please, like they're that smart. Ya give 'em too much credit."

The bus arrived exactly as we did and Sookie got on. She warned me about returning to school next Monday. I doubted her ominous premonition but she seemed sure there would be another 180 turn amongst the students, backing up her assumption with previous experiences at this school and other's she had attended.

"I hope your wrong." I said with a shrug.

"I'm not."

I had a creeping feeling she wasn't.

The bus took off and I headed back home, my hands deep into my pockets. I walked past the gate to the school yard again and saw people pouring outside in large numbers, being escorted by angry looking teachers. Up ahead I saw a short blonde with his head bowed and his shoulders slumped.

"Aston!" I called.

The blonde turned around and a small smile formed on his lips as he spotted me. I jogged to catch up with him.

"Hey." I said.

"Hey."

We continued walking.

"Where is Hunter?" I asked, looking around us, fighting the awkward silence that threatened to settle between us.

"Still in the dressing room, getting drilled by the coach probably. He told me to leave."

"Oh." I noticed the sullen look on his face. I tried to lighten his mood with one of my famous, carefree smiles, but he didn't even look at me, his eyes traced the outlines of the pavement stones as we walked. "He probably just didn't want you to have to wait."

He shook his head, his hair dancing. "I know what this means. Sookie told me."

I shrugged. "Sookie is a professional pessimist when it comes to stuff like this."

"But she's right..."

"Maybe. Maybe not."

"They were proven right tonight. Hunter had been contradicting their beliefs before, making them shut up. But to them, he has just proven that gays are indeed weak and useless and not as much of a man as straight guys are. This school needs a gay guy to prove them wrong and shut them up, but there not going to give Hunter or anyone else a chance again."

"It'll be okay." I said, even as I lost myself in my own dark musings and silently walked at Aston's side till we reached a crossroads and he announced he had to go left where I had to go straight ahead.

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up." He said, unconvinced. "I'll see you Monday."

"Yeah, sure. Have a nice weekend."

He waved halfheartedly and then walked off.

I let out a deep breath, watching him go, watching his head sink between his shoulders again. I felt sorry for him. Not only was his relationship at stake, but his safety at school as well. He must be afraid, I realized. I wasn't, but Aston wasn't a Gundam Pilot who could always secretly enjoy the knowledge that he could floor them whenever he felt like it. And do much worse if when left with no other choice. I walked home slowly, to give myself time to process the game and all of the possible consequences. In a way I was relieved at the possibility that things would be returning to normal. I could handle stares and name-calling and the infrequent kiss with a brick wall or the metal of the lockers lining the walls in the hallways, much better than I could handle the fake compliments they seethed.

"Heero?" I called when I opened the front door. The sky had darkened in the meantime, the apartment was veiled in black shadows. I flicked on the lights when I heard a tired moan. I smiled when I saw Heero lying stretched out on the couch, squinting his eyes at the lamp. I approached him and kneeled next to him on the carpeted floor and leaned my elbows on the cushions by his face. His incredible blue eyes fixed on me. "Hey." I said softly, almost dreamily.

His response was more groggy than romantic, but solidified my smile nevertheless. "Hey."

"We lost." I announced. Knowing he would never inform about it.

"I'm sorry." He said and he was genuine. Losing was something the perfect soldier understood, and hated more than anything else. Even more so than himself.

"That's okay. How long have you been sleeping?"

He considered my question briefly, then answered: "I don't know."

"You've been sleeping a lot lately." I commented, concerned at his lackluster behavior the last few days. He spent most of his time lying on the couch or lying in bed, sleeping or just staring into thin air, with the most pathetic and lost expression on his face. A conflicted face.

"I've been tired a lot lately."

"Why?"

"Because you are as poor of a physical therapist as that other guy."

I chuckled warmheartedly. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." A mischievous twinkle suddenly lit up in his blue orbs and a smirk tugged at one corner of his mouth.

"And why's that?"

"You don't push me."

I leaned in closer to his face, feeling his breath running across my cheek. "Are you going to punch me too?"

His eyes darkened and the smirk melted back into the usual impassive shape of his lips. "I wouldn't do that to you. You know I wouldn't."

"I know." I was quick to say. Before he could lose himself into memories best forgotten, I closed the distance between our lips, locking them together firmly. The kiss was relaxed, almost lazy, our lips moving together slowly and we enjoyed it for a long time till Heero seemed to become dissatisfied with it. I was almost startled when I felt the tip of his tongue touch my lower lip in shy exploration. I repressed a smile and curiously waited for him to take action. I soon felt his fingers lightly and tentatively touch the line of my jaw, but he quickly grew bolder and wrapped his hand strongly around my neck. With his mouth he still lacked confidence, only rarely licking me as he tried to provoke more action out of me.

I couldn't stifle my chuckle, simply endeared by him.

Heero jerked back, big eyes staring at me uncertainly. His hand on the back of my neck slowly slipped away.

I smiled at him reassuringly. Deciding that I had teased him long enough, I cupped the back of his head with one hand and rested my other hand lightly on his chest, causing his breath to hitch. I closed the distance once more, less concerned with waiting him out this time around. Heero took in a deep breath through his nose as I instantly deepened the kiss. I felt the intake of breath along my cheek, heard it and felt his chest rise. His hand returned to the back of my neck, his thumb was poised over my ear, lightly touching it, causing a pleasurable shiver to run down my spine.

My fingers lightly rubbed his chest. When they got caught behind a button, an idea sparked. Being careful not to move too quickly and scare him, I rubbed my fingers near the opening of his shirt between two buttons, cautiously advancing, to give him ample warning of my intentions. He didn't seem to be bothered, he returned my kisses passionately. I pushed three fingers - as much as would fit - through the opening between the buttons, slowly enough for him to stop me should he feel the need to. He did respond to the sudden contact between the pads of my fingers and the sensitive skin of his chest but it was nothing but favorable. He arched up into the touch and for a moment his jaw went slack with the intake of an inaudible gasp.

The loose fit of the button-up shirt - I think it was actually one of mine - allowed for a extensive range of motion across the expanse of his chest and I made good use of that, caressing him with feather light touches, loving his responses, drinking them, becoming addicted to them, wanting to provoke more and more.

My whole body was alight with flames, I felt like they were consuming me, but in a good way. If I would end in ashes at that moment, I would have been one damn happy gathering of ash.

Feeling bold, empowered by the delightful reactions his body had to my delicate ministrations, I pushed my hand further, towards his side and grazed his right nipple.

Heero groaned, loud enough to hear. It was gravelly and short in surprise. The sound seemed to startle him. His whole body tensed up and he immediately distanced himself from me, retreating his hands and turning his face away. Exactly the opposite of what I wanted him to do.

Afraid of another misstep that was going to set us back, my apology was instant and sincere. I apologized profusely before I had even looked at him. When I did look at his face, the expression was better than I had fearfully expected. Unlike the horror, upset and scared expression that I had observed the last time things went wrong during intimate contact, he mostly just seemed to be ashamed and surprised at himself. His cheekbones were a bright red hue, his whole face had a warm fluster to it, his gaze was cast to the side in embarrassment. His teeth had caught his lower lip, perhaps an attempt to silence his mouth before it betrayed him further; preventing himself from any other possible outcries, unbeknownst to how welcome they were to me.

His embarrassment concerned me. It was so severe it caused him to shy away from me and create a distance with the appearance of being insurmountable. I didn't want him to draw away from me. I didn't want him to feel uncomfortable with me, or with his own body and his sensations and feelings. I longed for him to be able to embrace it all, instead of being scared of it and overwhelmed by it.

Hoping to ease his embarrassment, I said softly: "I love hearing you."

The effect of my - meant to be sweet and comforting - words only seemed to be antagonistic. His cheeks grew redder and his eyes turned away further. His lips became a tense, taut line.

Feeling sad and suddenly cold, I asked him: "Do you want me to stop?" My fingers were still inserted into his shirt, on his bare chest, I didn't even dare to move them, the chill that ghosted over my body froze me solid.

"No."

His answer surprised me, but judging from his eyes which were still turned away, I knew he had more to say and I shouldn't just jump him again. Regardless of how much I desired to do so.

"But maybe we can save some things for next time." He finally looked at me again, when he seemed to have found his strength. The blush left his cheeks.

Though still relentlessly worried and admittedly slightly disappointed, I respected his limits and his assertion of a "next time" made me smile. I pulled my hand out of his shirt and hoped to recapture the mood by initiating a new kiss. Parting briefly, I whispered, with my hot breath running by his ear: "It's okay, we can go slow." I meant it, yet my voice dripped with need, I could not prevent it.

Heero was worrisomely uncooperative at first, keeping his mouth closed, his lips barely moving and his hands to himself. It was obvious he used this physical separation as a continuation of his mental disengagement as he tried to defend himself against feelings of the body and the mind he didn't understand. But his protection - however iron and immovable at first - started to falter.

After a little bit more coaxing, my tongue was finally granted access again and his hands once more encircled the back of my neck as his desire caused him to be bolder.

To keep some progress to the physical interaction, instead of plateauing on the level we had been at for a while - though enjoyable - I pressed my luck with some traditional "over the sweater action". Stroking my hand up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling the definition of muscles through the fabric. But I was always monitoring his reactions. When he continuously responded positively, I ventured lower, running my hand firmly down his thigh and slipping my hand to his inner thigh and then dragging my hand back up. I never made contact with his groin, but nevertheless it was obvious Heero was enjoying it, writhing on the couch as he returned my kisses distractedly. He was surely making no objections, though - unfortunately - also never encouraging me with any sound whatsoever except for the occasional sharp intake of breath as my hand traveled up his thigh again.

Knowing that what it was, was all it was going to be for a while, I limited my actions to just lazy and comfortable open-mouthed kisses to gently guide us down from our high, allowing for us both to relax and let our bodies return to more "passive" states. Feeling drunk from his kisses I finally parted our lips and I grinned at him. Heero returned a small smile.

I kneeled by the side of the couch for a long time. All we did was breathe in unison, both lost in our own thoughts. My hand idly toyed with a few strands of hic chocolate brown hair and he held on to the end of my braid. When I noticed a frown on his face, I questioned: "What is it?"

"I am curious to know whether I am a good kisser." He blurted shamelessly.

I chuckled breathlessly, taken aback by his inquiry. "Why do you want to know?"

He didn't answer. He didn't really have to, I knew the truth. He had be perfect.

"You're an amazing kisser."

He took my comment and processed it privately.

"Am I a good kisser?" I asked playfully. I didn't think I wanted to hear his answer, because I didn't feel like I needed it to feel confidant about my kissing, but as soon as my question was out there, I was eager to have it answered. My vanity disappointed me.

Heero was quiet for a while as he seemed to be mentally reviewing my kissing techniques. He eventually concluded: "Though I have no comparison, I presume you to be considered exceptionally skillful."

I laughed. "Exceptionally skillful..." I mused. "I think I'm flattered." I placed a light peck on his lips. "Let's go to bed mister Amazing."

He nodded and accepted my help in getting up from the couch. I switched off the lights and we walked to bedroom through the darkness. Instead of going through the process of changing into nightwear, I simply undressed and slipped under the sheet wearing just my boxers. Heero copied me and I enjoyed the moonlight spotlight on him as he undressed and got into bed in his tight black boxer briefs, smirking like the idiot I was. However distracted I may have been I did notice the stiff movements of his legs and as soon as he had settled I suggested we'd go for a walk the next day to exercise his knee-joint.

"Okay." He simply said.

"Okay." I shook my head, smiling. "Good night Heero. I love you."

Heero turned to lay on his side, his back towards me, but I heard him mumble: "I love you too. Goodnight."

Sleep didn't come easily, it never did. It was expertly elusive, slipping from the grasp of my tired fingers. I tossed and turned under the sheets, torn between delirious happiness and a relentless concern that had lodged itself inside of my heart and I just couldn't shake it. I finally turned to face Heero, staring at his back. As soon as his shoulder had healed enough, he had started sleeping on it again. My eyes traced the elegant long line of his neck and the angles and shapes of his shoulder and bare arm that rested over the sheets, on his side. Barely hidden by the wrinkles of the fine blue fabric was the silhouette of his body, his long legs extending down. My eyes traveled back up his length and settled at the short hairs at the nape of his neck, the base of his deliciously tousled hair. The urge to run my fingers through his hair, sometimes - like that time - became overwhelming. Cupping his head to kiss his face adoringly.

With my lids drooping, my mind started to wander, trailing back down the path of time and then playing back to me, in slow-motion, our making out on the couch. I wished it could always be like that. Just... happier... easier... simple. No need to ravage each other, no need to push boundaries that aren't ready to be relocated yet, but just slow, comfortable progress, tendering my hopefulness.

If only I could tell him. Make him understand.

If only it would matter.

The soldier was a worthy opponent to the will of the God of Death, with a firm stubbornness that could withstand tidal waves. There was no making the soldier surrender, no making him kneel. Heero would have to kill him, himself.

Finally sleep became so urgent, my body shut itself down and didn't boot itself up again till morning, later than I was used to. I rubbed my eyes, they seemed to be burning. With a soft touch to his exposed shoulder I woke Heero, to give us both plenty of time to prepare for our scheduled walk. Looking at his face as his eyes fluttered open, I wondered how someone as plagued by demons as Heero was, could sleep so soundly. But I thanked for this one kind blessing that was granted him. I stole a light kiss from his high cheekbone and told him I'd take a shower first.

Standing behind the relative privacy of the frosted shower curtain, I became uncharacteristically self-conscious when Heero joined me in the bathroom and washed his face at the sink. I could see him through the curtain, still only wearing those tight boxer briefs. They were both a blessing and a curse. I turned away a little bit, adjusting my body to face the wall, scared that even through the curtain he would be able to make out the embarrassing silhouette of my body in a state of "morning glory".

I rushed through my shower after turning the temperature to freezing and made way for Heero to take his shower. While I shaved and brushed my teeth at the sink, I was stealing shameless sideway glances. Even blurred his naked body had no equivalent.

At breakfast we were both mostly quiet; I fussed over a razor cut on my jaw line, ignoring his single, oblivious question to what could have possibly distracted me enough to so carelessly cut myself. After I was done feeling sorry for myself I tried to playfully engage him in a game of footsie, but at the initial touch he just looked up at me with his trademark questioning frown, with the addition of a monotone: "What?"

I withdrew my foot and brushed it off as an accident.

I announced our departure shortly after, hoping to leave the awkward atmosphere behind in the apartment, at which point in time an argument ensued about the crutch. Heero didn't want to bring it with him because he had been doing fine without it lately and didn't want to take a step back, but I insisted on it in case he would get tired or the joint would become agitated from over-exertion. The discussion in which my rationality battled his came to an abrupt end when I burst into laughter and exclaimed at his shocked and confused face: "We are like an old married couple!"

I noticed from the expression on his face that he didn't think that was a bad thing. I abused his stunned frozen state to steal another kiss and then we left. Heero seemed content to engage in an encore of the argument, but I disregarded all comments and took the crutch with me, ignoring angry glares sent my way through the reflective surface of the elevator doors.

The weather was perfect for a laid back scroll. It was warm, but not as hot and humid as it had been recently. The sky was a little grayish, clouds combating the rays of the sun successfully. I enjoyed the breeze that teased the branches and my braid. I remained focused on Heero's movements, noting how he reacted to every step we took. It was a relaxed walk, we didn't say much to each other but I didn't feel the need to share words, it was a good silence. It was almost as if in the silent more was being said than words could ever manage.

We entered the park and I appreciated the way the strong rays which had fought their way through the clouds filtered through the leaves of the tall trees. Stepping into the grass to take a detour off the path, figuring the soft grass would be more forgiving to Heero's footfall than gravel, I searched for his hand and when my fingers encountered his in the endless space they took a firm hold of him, as if my digits were trying to communicate that I would never let him go.

I felt him looking at me, but I stubbornly refused eye contact, just smirking as we walked on. When I noticed he was getting tired and his knee getting sore, I sat us down on an idyllic bench wrapped around the base of an impossibly large tree. I looked up at the branches and exclaimed with youthful surprise: "Look a squirrel!" I followed it with my pointed finger and my gaze till it climbed higher and higher and finally jumped onto a branch out of sight. "Why didn't you look?" I asked, as he obviously hadn't.

He looked at me with a slight frown. "I know what squirrels look like."

I scoffed. "You're no fun." I mocked.

"Sorry." Heero uttered morosely.

I sighed. "I didn't mean it like that. I was joking."

He didn't say anything and neither did I. We just sat under the tree and both found our own points of interest in the scenery to focus on. I stared up for a while longer, searching for the damn little rodent, but finally accepted that it was gone and let my eyes wander to the other people in the park. My gaze settled on an old couple walking down the path, hand in hand. I squeezed Heero's hand - which I was still holding - briefly. He looked at me with a frown and I told him, nodding towards the couple: "That's going to be us, sixty years from now."

Heero squinted at the old man and woman, slowly making their way through the park. The woman held a plastic bag that appeared to be filled with bread, leading to the conclusion that they were going to feed the ducks that always flocked in the large pond that was included in the park.

"I highly doubt it." Heero stated.

"Why?"

"Neither of us is a woman and as far as I know neither of us is planning to become one."

I laughed, very hard and I saw the couple look at me in surprise before continuing along their way. Once I was done laughing - but it did take a while - I turned to him and said teasingly: "You cracked a joke. That was really funny."

Heero shook his head and then used his free hand to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes. "I wasn't joking. I just stated the truth. But I guess, sometimes, the truth can be funny."

I chuckled and then leaned in for a short kiss. I had to suppress the urge to make the contact more intimate, I heard children playing in the background, I didn't want to scar them for life.

We enjoyed the park and each other's quiet company for a little while longer. Scrutinizing pedestrians and their dogs as they walked by, like a runway showcasing life. One of the dogs that was off it's leash approached us with a happily wagging tail. The dog was beautiful, a near white golden retriever with a feathery tail and bright expression. It made a beeline towards Heero who froze up, his whole body became incredibly tense, so much so that I could see his jaw clenching and the tendons in his neck were standing out. Being experts in body language the dog quickly directed it's attention towards me and I rewarded her kind and gentle demeanor by petting her on her head.

The owner, a man in his mid forties, jogged towards us and apologized for the dog, apparently named Diem.

"That's okay, it's a very sweet dog." I said, petting her a final time.

"She is." The man said, he called her and she detached herself from me and walked back to him. The man looked at Heero, sympathetic. As he leaned down and petted his dog, he said: "Don't worry, you don't have to be afraid of her, she really does no harm." Obviously Heero didn't respond, so the man continued to me: "I'm really sorry, we were in the dog park but some idiot left the gate open. I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to scare your friend. Bye. Come on, Diem." He attached the leash to her collar and walked away with her.

I leaned in towards Heero, making our shoulders touch lightly. "Are you okay?" I whispered in his ear.

Heero nodded curtly, but remained stiff.

"Sure?"

He nodded again.

Deciding not to pry and storing my curiosity for later reflection, I gave up and suggested we headed back home.

This time he shook his head and said: "We could go a little further." The lack of emotion in the tone of his voice was chilling, all of Florida seemed to frost over and the breeze that had felt so comfortable now stung my skin with cold.

"Heero, you shouldn't push yourself." I tried, keeping my voice calm and reasonable, knowing nothing less could ever convince him of anything. "Your leg is already sore and we still have to walk all the way back."

Heero stood up, I caught the wince as he put weight on the leg that was already stressed enough for today. "We can go further. I can walk through the pain." He gave me a challenging look, his eyes were shadowing by his frowning brows.

I rose to my feet as well, trying to intimidate him with my height. Of course that was in vain, his glare never wavered. "We're going back." I announced firmly. "You've done enough for today. If you're in pain we have to stop."

"Pain is never a good reason to stop." Heero scoffed and continued to argue stubbornly: "I can push through the pain, it's nothing." He turned away from me and started to walk, in the opposite direction that I wanted us to be heading.

In my stunned and confused state I allowed him to take a few steps away from me but then I furrowed my own brows and something in me clicked and it was decided: No. becoming angry and impatient with his childish stubborn attitude it took merely three large strides to catch up with him. I grabbed him by his shoulders, always being mindful of the injuries he had sustained and turned him around to face me. One determined expression met the other. "Stop this." I told him.

"Stop what?" He spat.

"This!" I let go of his shoulders to gesture in general at his stiff stance and immovable demeanor. "This soldier stuff! Stop being the perfect soldier. I'm not stupid, I saw what just happened here. Something about that dog upset you and now your are retreating back into the soldier routine." I gazed deeply into his eyes, but he fought hard and successfully to keep me out and to keep me from seeing anything other than my own reflection in the brilliant blue. "I want you to stop doing that, that's not you. You don't have to be like that anymore. This isn't wartime, you don't have to walk with a broken foot, you don't have to climb a wall with a dislocated soldier, you don't have to fire a gun with frost bitten fingers! This is peacetime! When you hurt yourself, you don't power through it, you slow down so you can heal properly..."

Heero's eyes were wide and incredulous, his breath came in short pants. I couldn't tell if he was scared or angry.

"I know it's easier to be the soldier," I continued in a softer tone, "but you never did things just because they are easy. You are strong enough to do the difficult stuff. Please..."

He was quietly contemplative, finally his face seemed to relax and a kindness returned to his eyes, something I had grown too fond of to ever go without again. In a softer tone he agreed: "Fine, we'll go back."

That was all he said, so we just started walking back home.

On the way home I wondered what had just happened. It all happened so quickly, I feared I may have missed something that I shouldn't have. I hoped I hadn't been too harsh on him, but it was painful to see our peaceful moment be interrupted by the person I hated the most - the person Heero couldn't let go of. Each time he got like that, each time his eyes shaded over, each time his face went blank, each time his fists were balled and white knuckled at his side, I hurt.

Once we were back at the apartment Heero resumed his recent habit of sleeping more than he needed by crawling into bed, as always facing the wall. I remained in the living room, in absolute solitude, rotating through the many channels but finding nothing interesting enough distract me from my thoughts. In spite of my best efforts, the situation seemed to have stagnated and every push forward was like trying to push a greasy boulder up a mossy hill. Heero had no grip on normal life whatsoever, but I wasn't that much better. I could dig my heels into the hillside as much as I wanted, I still felt like the weight of it all had me slipping. If I believed this method would eventually get us to the top, I would tirelessly continue, my strength would never waver in this regard, but I was unconvinced. Something had to change, that something being both of us. Heero had to find a way to shake the dead weight of the soldier, but first had to find the will to let go of him. I had to find a way to guide and direct him, taking him by the hand and asking him to come along, in stead of digging my hands into his back and shoving him forward while he is resisting my every attempt.

He emerged late in the afternoon and I made him an overdue lunch, not because he needed me to, but because I wanted to. That creeping feeling of needing to be needed. When I set the plate in front of him, he promptly spoke, without any apparent emotion: "I don't want you to be angry with me."

I offered him a small smile. "I'm not angry. I'm just scared." My honesty frightened even myself.

He took his first bite of his lavish peanut butter sandwich and then inquired curiously: "Scared?"

I chuckled sheepishly and rubbed the back of my neck. "I don't quite know how to explain... I guess... I guess I'm just afraid that you are too uncomfortable with yourself to ever truly be yourself. And I'd hate that." I sighed deeply and pulled out a chair across from him. My body felt heavy as I seated it, but the chair never complained.

He thought about what I said for a long time, finishing his lunch. He didn't say anything to assure me, to ease my concern. He probably still had a lot to figure out for himself. I wondered if either us even knew who the true Heero Yuy was. Perhaps he was lost in all the identities Heero Yuy was ordered to be, overwhelmed by every new layer of soldier he was required to be. I just hoped we could figure out the answer together and that the answer didn't include the extreme and reclusive ways of the perfect soldier. But how many layers were there to strip away? And what is left underneath, shivering in vulnerability?

I lost myself in a dark premonition of a future I wanted to take no part of. I needed to find middle ground between the perfect soldier and an empty shell. I knew Heero was in there, he had shown me, he had reached out for me, but was he too infused with the characteristics of the soldier to survive the extraction of him?

I stared at him and Heero stared back, both our faces unreadable I imagine. My eyes studied his features, the delicate angle of his nose, the arch of the eyebrows and the few scattered hairs, the fullness of his lips, the playfulness of his bangs and the harsh reality of his burnt ear. I didn't need to look at him to recognize how desperately I was in love with him, my very soul felt tied to his, but the bonds with which I carried his weight were cutting into me.

"I just want you to be you." I whispered.

Heero blinked away whatever it was he didn't want me to see in his cobalt orbs. "I just want to be normal."

I pursed my lips and lowered my brows. "You'd be selling yourself short."

He looked away, down at the grain of the table.

Noticing a flicker and running with it, I asked: "What are you afraid of?"

When he looked at me, his expression was blank, all emotions was contained, secretly stowed away. "I don't like me very much."

"You don't know that." I was quick to say. "You don't see what I see when you let go of the soldier attitude. That is the real you and I like him very much." I offered a smile.

"Please," he said and his expression reflected his plea, "just make me normal."

I frowned. "I don't know what you mean by that..."

"I want to do what normal people do and I want to feel what normal people feel. I want to experience... things." His voice carried a wistful innocence that never seemed to be fitting for him, but strangely, in a way, it was.

"Okay." I instantly agreed, reaching for him to feel his fingers were cold and clammy. "We'll do normal things. Whatever you want."

His mind drew a blank, he tried to pull his fingers away but I wouldn't let him. He became uncomfortable in his seat, feeling like he was being tested. "I don't know..." He uttered in frustration.

"Just tell me what you want to... experience..." A smile crept to my lips even though maybe I shouldn't have let it. Former Gundam Pilot or not, my mind worked like that of any other hot blooded teenager.

His answer couldn't have made me happier. "I want... I want to experience what normal couples experience." He seemed to have retrieved his characteristic determination, he even finished his admission with a curt, definitive nod.

Just to have him acknowledge that we were a couple I considered a milestone in and of itself, but the possibilities that his request posed especially piqued my interest. I could almost hear a click as I told myself to shut off some of the more primal suggestions that sprung to mind and the next most logical option blurted past my lips.

"We could go on a date."

He looked at me like I had just used a word that wasn't readily accepted in the English language and carried no clear, specific meaning to him. However more apparently daunting the task before me became witnessing his obvious lack of knowledge, it was endearing and drew a chuckle forth from me.

"You don't know what a date is?"

Maybe I should have kept the mocking tone to my voice in check, he became stiff and defensive as he replied: "I know of dating. It's just that exploring the concept has never seemed relevant, so I may not be aware of the finer details."

I winked at him as I retorted: "Would you like to explore the concept with me?"

"Are you asking me if I want to go out on a date with you?"

"Yes, Captain Obvious."

He seemed insecure. "Will you tell me what to do?"

I smiled. "No. I'll take you and then you can do whatever you want to."

"How will I know if I'm doing it right?"

I smirked. "I'm sure you'll figure something out." I paused briefly before pressing on: "So?"

He shrugged, but however disinterest his body language portrayed him to be, his eyes belied his curiosity. Then his voice became a traitor too: "What will we be doing?"

My turn to shrug, I hadn't given it much thought yet and I realized I had never been on a date myself, but perhaps that was what was so perfect about it, doing something that we were both unfamiliar with and exploring it together, along with ourselves and each other. "I don't know. Have dinner, go see a movie?"

"We do that all the time." He stated dryly.

I chuckled and reached out across the table to hold his hand. "I know, but on a date it will be different, we would go eat in a restaurant and watch a movie at the theatre."

The prospect seemed to intimidate him, but after thinking it through carefully and lengthily, he consented.

"Great. We'll go out tomorrow, I'll take care of everything." I was excited, as I imagined all normal guys my age to be when the person you can't stop thinking about agrees to go on a date. "We'll just have dinner. We're going to take this slow, remember?"

He didn't respond to my smile nor my words.

Before lazily ordering dinner over the telephone, I called a restaurant that I passed everyday on my way to school and made reservations for two. The man specified whether it concerned a romantic dinner and with a strange, nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach, I confirmed and in turn was assured a romantic table. I briefly wondered what the reactions would be when two young men would show up to claim that special, romantic table, but I pushed the thought away.

During dinner - pizza boxes in our laps in front of the tv - Heero verified, out of the blue: "So this isn't a date?"

I chuckled, covering my mouth with my hand. "No." I said once I had had the opportunity to swallow the large bite of pizza.

"Even though there is food and a movie involved?" He seemed genuinely confused at the concept and frustrated that he couldn't grasp it.

"Well, this is just about eating and enjoying a movie," I gestured at the screen where Indiana Jones fumbled his way out of a hazardous situation, "on a date it's not about the food, nor the movie. It's about enjoying each other."

My poor explanation only added further confusion to his state of mind. His brows furrowed. "If it's not about the food or the movie, why do you pay so much more for them than you usually do?"

I shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's just to show your appreciation of someone. Like when you give someone a gift."

Heero sighed and seemed to be giving up on understanding the ritual of dating. He ate his pizza, slowly, still not enjoying the taste of the combination of all the different ingredients. I watched him, somewhat bemused, as he fought with the stringy cheese. I was looking forward to our date, with an appropriate amount of nervousness and anticipation, which I attributed to nothing other than my own inexperience in the field of romantics, even though I had mastered the expertise of pretending to be an expert. I scolded myself for not coming up with the idea sooner, it seemed so logical - in hindsight - for us to attempt a date in our quest for normality. With all my bundled nervousness and excitement I never felt more normal; more like the adolescent male that I sometimes forget I am.

As much as I had been opposing Heero's desire to achieve normality, it seemed this time his decisiveness had sparked a good idea, possibly a solution to the strain that was wearing on the both of us. Naively and childishly I hoped this date would make everything okay. The part of me that refused to know better, believed a miracle could happen and somehow everything would turn out perfect and we would not be normal, but just be us. The idea was infectious, spreading through me, possibly false hope in it's wake.

After dinner I cleaned up, endeared by Heero's help even though I could walk to the kitchen and back three times in the time it took him to reach the counter just once. I knew we had pushed it too far today. There was a reason the physical therapist had set such an agonizingly slow pace. He hadn't done it just for the sake of bothering Heero, though obviously he seemed to think so. The bones, tendons and muscles were badly damaged by the penetration of the metal shard and the dislocation of the knee cap. Heero may be willing to accept pain as an inevitable part of his life, something to be dealt with in silence, without complaints, but I wasn't as accepting. Quite the contrary, I wanted him to enjoy a life free of pain, he had suffered enough already.

"Thanks for the help, buddy." I said, waiting by the sink for him to hand me the final glass. "I'll just rinse this and then we'll go to bed."

"It's nine thirty..." Heero stated dryly.

"So? I'm tired and you need to get off your feet." I washed the glass and then ushered him to the bedroom, turning off the lights behind us. Maybe Heero finally agreed with my logic, he didn't argue with me. We undressed together in the confinement of the modest bedroom, using the space between our two beds. I had my back turned towards him, pretending to be ignoring his presence, but in truth I was hyper aware of the position of his limbs in space and sometimes I could even swear I felt his breath on my bare back as I changed into a loose night shirt. I crawled under the sheets, settling into bed, inspecting the ceiling until I could verify from the corners of my eyes that the show was over and he was covered by his own bed sheets. I turned my head and saw him staring up at the ceiling as well.

"Regret it yet?" I teased, but with a hint of curious uncertainty.

"What?"

"Agreeing to go on a date with me."

He frowned, he brought his hands up from under the sheets, placing them on his chest with the fingers entwined. "Should I?" He finally countered.

"Of course not, I'm awesome." I joked and my heart warmed when a brief smile took to his lips. It made the frost that swept through my heart moments later, seem even colder, as he successfully suppressed what could have been a beautiful smile, like the one I had seen at Relena's pretentious ball. Some of it melted away when he said absentmindedly:

"Yes, you are."

"Thanks." Big grin. "So are you."

He didn't believe me, questioned the reliability of my statement, all he ever did was reshape the frown, less confused, more angry and frustrated, with himself.

I rolled over, deciding I didn't want to see his conflicted face anymore that evening, and switched off the light. The image was already etched into my retina, and imprinted into my brain. I knew what it would take to erase these scratchy, heart wrenching drawings; a smile, I just didn't know how to create the smile. "Good night Heero." I said as darkness enveloped us.

"Good night. I love you."

I sighed softly, it was good to hear him say it first. "I love you too." I turned to my favorite side to sleep on - the position from which I could watch Heero - and remembered how I used to gag during movies when the characters got all sappy and caught up in clichéd romantics, so cliché, it wasn't even romantic anymore. I laughed with the Sweeper crew and threw buttered popcorn at the screen at every slowly initiated, innocently performed and lingeringly ended kiss. To myself I had bitterly thought; "real life isn't like that". Now I realized real life is even worse than that. You can laugh at the screen, mock the protagonist, but in real life there was this dire need for the clichés and the only ones who were in on that secret where the screenplay writers. In real life, you're swept off your feet, completely unprepared, when you hear that first "I love", or "I want to be with you forever", because what follows is no sarcastic snort, or bantering scoff, it's an epiphany, a damn scary one: you need that expression on tape and rewind it over and over again.

You become instantly dependent, addicted even.

"I love you." I said through my musings, even though we had already said it. I just felt like it couldn't be said often enough, as much as it couldn't be heard often enough.

Instead of berating me for the double sentiment, Heero just replied with his calm and steady voice: "I love you too." No judgment of my vulnerability, but rather; a mirror image of it.

Sleep killed my consciousness with merciful expedition and a dreamless state of peace ensued.

The Sunday lasted infinitely. My whole day evolved around my first date. Heero didn't seem to be too caught up in any form of excitement, nor did he pay much attention to mine, aside from arching his eyebrow and drawing his eyes away from the nature special on TV to watch me run around the house like a headless chicken. But I was just being a mothering hen, to myself for once. I did the things that I imagined a mother would do for her son in preparations for his first date, arranging clothes and fussing mostly. Standing in front of my closet as evening drew nearer, holding up a bold red button up shirt to a favorite black one, I realized something and with the two colored fabrics draping behind me I left for the living room.

Heero hardly seemed particularly enthralled by the Wildlife marathon on TV, but I supposed if I ever pointed out a lion, a hippo or a wildebeest, he wouldn't look, because he "already knew what they looked like". He sure did seemed to be intently studying them.

"Heero?" I called after a while, surprisingly going unnoticed by the normally ever-alert ex-soldier.

He looked at me and then frowned at the two shirts I was holding up.

"What are you going to wear?"

He eyed me a little while longer and then pointedly, but with a hint of hesitation, looked down at himself, his comfortable jeans and loose, grey sweater.

I knitted my brows together. "I feared as much." I helped him off the couch and escorted him to the bedroom, where I sat him down on my bed, from where he had a good view into the wide open closet and I started pulling shirts and pants that neared the appropriate dress code.

The pants were quickly decided, black slacks much like the ones he wore to work, he looked devilishly good in them. Heero was just along for the ride, too uncertain to speak, fearful of belying his lack of expertise.

My hands searched the neat stacks of folded clothes - folded with military precision - and when they wondered over a certain item, I knew the right choice had been made. It was at the bottom of the pile, he had never worn it because it wasn't very inconspicuous, as in; he looked so hot in it no one could stop looking at him. I pulled out the article of clothing and held it in front of him, the color of the button up shirt was a perfect match to the electric blue shade that dominated his eyes and merged the icy blue of the center with the dark cobalt of the perimeter. I shamelessly used the moment to not only appreciate the shirt and remembering how good he looked in it when he tried it on at the store, but also to find new appreciation for his stunning irises.

Heero grew uncomfortable with the scrutiny and directed his gaze to the shirt. It didn't seem like he was going to agree to wear it, droning the usual objections, but he surprised me by not saying anything, he just took the shirt from my hands and placed it over the pants we had already draped across my bed. He looked back up at me, seeking confirmation.

"Do you like it?"

"That seems rather irrelevant." He stated in his regular monotone, "I'm not the one who has to look at it all evening."

I guess in his own distorted way he was telling me the decision was mine and perhaps there was some reason to his conclusion. I smiled and said I would love to look at him all evening wearing that. Realizing his logic should apply in the opposite direction as well, I held up the two shirts that I had still been dangling at my sides loosely. "You're the one who has to look at me all night." I noted with a smirk.

The choice was daunting to him, I could read it clearly on his face. "I'm not familiar with what is appropriate attire and what is not." He tried.

"They're both appropriate. Pick one."

He kept his mouth firmly shut.

"There is no right or wrong answer Heero." I assured him. "Just pick whichever you like best."

"Black." He hastily mumbled and then looked like he wished I hadn't heard him. "I like you in black..."

Making sure not to make a big deal out of it and add to his discomfort, I just said: "Good choice. Black it is." And I folded the red shirt and put it away. "The shower is free if you want."

He nodded and left to wash himself.

I changed in the bedroom, occasionally peeking around the corner to allow my eyes to soak up the silhouette of his naked body, burdening my mind with the trouble of pushing naughty thoughts away. The largest part of me wanted to walk into the steam filled space of the bathroom, rip the curtain away and join him under the warm stream, fully dressed or not. But thankfully the wiser part of me reigned and controlled those unspoken urges.

Whereas the day had been crawling, the evening moved swiftly and by the time Heero finished his shower, I knew we might have to rush to make the time I had set for our reservation.

He emerged from the bathroom with his body dried and dressed in clean underwear, but his hair was still soaking wet. He was unwilling to admit it, but his shoulder still did not allow for full range of motion and he couldn't hold his arm above his head long enough to sufficiently dry his unruly hair. I snatched a small fresh towel from the linen closet and ordered him to sit down on his bed, angled away from me. I placed one knee on the mattress to help balance myself as I draped the small towel over his wet hair and started rubbing it, chuckling under my breath as I did so.

"Not funny." Heero muttered, pouted almost.

"Sorry." But my chuckles just grew louder. "Sorry." I said again and then managed to keep quiet.

I let him be as he got dressed as soon as his hair was only damp and there was no threat of him getting a huge wet spot on the back of his shirt. I watched him as he diligently tucked the blue shirt into his slacks and as soon as he was finished I approached him with a smirk and untucked it, my fingers sometimes brushing his bare skin, sending electric surges down my spine. With my face close to his, my eyes staring into him, reading the question in the blue, I explained teasingly: "It's the difference between date night and game night."

He didn't understand what that meant, I'm not even sure I did myself, I just knew he looked better with the shirt untucked. I kissed him lightly and told him he looked hot. I'd swear his cheeks became redder than they normally are. He refused my proposal of calling for a taxi, reminding me I had told him so myself that the restaurant was just around the corner. I shared with him a concerned look, openly expressing my worry for his lasting injury, but he brushed it off and decided we would be walking. I didn't want to ruin the date before it had even started by getting into a discussion, so I let him get away with it.

In the cooling air we walked down the street. I had set the pace, glacially slow. Neither of us said anything, I guess we were both running through our expectations of the evening.

"This is it." I said and stopped in front of double glass doors to a small restaurant, standing underneath curling bronze letters that read: Levata del Sole.

"Sunrise?" Heero wondered, squinting at the letters.

"If you say so." I joked. "I can barely read English." I opened the door and gestured him to enter.

Once we had crossed the threshold, a waiter with a friendly face hurried towards us and greeted us with an appropriate "Buona sera". "Did you make reservations?" He questions, approaching a small desk by the entry and flipping through a planner.

"Yes. Maxwell."

His forefinger trailed the names on the paper. He halted at my name and followed the line to our reservation details. He briefly looked up, his eyes darted towards Heero, standing next to me. If there existed any objections in his mind, he politely did not voice nor show them. His professional smile never wavered and he showed us our table, lighting the candle at the center as we sat down. "I will bring you the menu shortly." He made a curt bow and then scurried off.

In the restaurant there was a nice atmosphere, the space was filled with the indistinct murmur of many voices merging together, the coherency of individual conversation lost in the incoherency of the crowd. The lighting was soft, aside from some additional lights on the walls, candles did most of the work, flickering in the breeze each time the door opened to welcome new guests. The restaurant was furnished with simple wooden tables and chairs, covered with crisp white linen and decorated with blossoming roses and a candle on each table. What made our table special, I supposed, was the seclusion of it, located right beside the closed off annex of the front door and the next table was far off due to a support pillar. A perfect place for private conversation, stolen looks and secretive footsie under the table. In a way I feared this great table was lost on us.

"Sunrise." Heero said.

I tore my eyes away from the gathering crowd to look at him and noticed him staring at the wall behind me. I turned in my seat to follow his gaze. On the wall behind me was a large painting of an idyllic landscape, flowing grassy hills, dotted with tall, green trees and in the backdrop, silhouetted by the brilliantly rising sun, was the shape of an ancient church; the house of God amidst the glory of mother Nature. The painting must be very old, or the artist deliberately let out the antennas and electric cables that dotted all of the inhabited world.

"It's nice." I commented, straightening myself in my seat.

The waiter returned holding two leather bound menus. "Signore" he addressed us both with as he handed us the menus.

"Thank you." I whispered upon receiving, feeling somewhat uncomfortable to be spoken to in Italian when I didn't speak a single word of the language. We were quick to order, we knew what we liked. As the waiter took back the leather booklets, he offered us something to drink.

"Water." Heero said.

"For me too and a bottle of red wine please."

"Si, signore."

As soon as the waiter had left the side of our table Heero leaned in and asked me: "Why is he speaking Italian to us?"

I shrugged. "It's just part of the atmosphere, part of the fantasy."

"Fantasy?"

"Yeah, Italy is romantic, they want their patrons to feel like they are in Italy."

"That is stupid." Heero commented.

I chuckled. "Yeah. Maybe. It works though." I mused, scanning the crowd with mischievous eyes, consisting solely of couples - man and woman, mind you - who stared adoringly into each other's eyes and reached out across the tables to hold each other's hands.

"What do you mean it works? How is it supposed to work?"

I hoped the soft lighting of the candles veiled my blush as I replied: "It's supposed to get you laid. Many guys use the ritual of dating only as foreplay for the woman. A candle lit dinner, a fine wine, sweet nothings whispered into her ears and before she knows it she's on her back with her heels in the air."

Heero blinked away his perplexity and looked around the restaurant. "Oh." He uttered.

I extended my arm across the table and gently lay my hands over Heero, causing him to look back at me. With honest eyes and voice I assured him: "I didn't mean... I'm not one of those guys."

Heero snorted, retreating his hand into his lap. "I'm not one of those girls."

I laughed, the sound almost seemed to startle him at first, but then a smile tugged at the corners of his own lips and he let out a single chuckle which even he could not suppress.

The waiter joined us again and handed us both a glass of water as well as presented a bottle of wine, I tuned out the specifics and tentatively gave it try when he poured a small amount into my wine glass.

"It's good."

He proceeded to pour the red liquid into both our wine glasses, generous amounts and then excused himself.

"Try it." I urged Heero. "I think you'll like it better than beer."

"Is it custom to drink alcohol on a date?" He questioned in his never ending search for normality.

"Sort of. It makes people feel more relaxed and instead of being nervous, they can just be themselves."

Heero nodded and placed the glass at his lips cautiously and gave me one last questioning look which I answered with an affirming nod. He took a tiny sip and a long time to evaluate the taste. Finally, he concluded: "It is good." and he took another sip before putting the glass away.

As our dinner was being prepared in the kitchen, I carefully ventured into conversation, but all my attempts at small talk were in vain, provoking no more than the occasional "yes", "no" or the dreaded, ambiguous "hn". Knowing that in order to succeed, I would have to opt for a topic of more relevance, I asked him bluntly: "How is therapy going."

He frowned, almost accusingly. "You know how therapy is going."

"I mean... how do you feel about it? Do you think it's working?"

The answer was in his eyes but his mouth contradicted the forlorn expression. "I guess."

"Yeah?"

He looked up at me hopelessly and admitted with a grimace. "No, not really."

I sighed, but managed to offer him a uplifting smile. "That's okay. You'll get there. Does Nettle ever comment about your progress?"

We kept quiet as the waiter interrupted us to present us with two plates skillfully balanced on one arm. He placed our dinners in front of us and wished us a delicious meal, before he retreated with a small bow. The silence reigned as we took our first bite. I enjoyed the taste but it all seemed to be bland to Heero. At least he did seem to honestly appreciate the wine. He sipped it steadily. When he finished it the waiter returned to wordlessly refill his glass and disappear again, finally, he seemed ready to talk, perhaps more assured we wouldn't be disturbed again.

"She doesn't say much about that. She is quite vague." He was obviously displeased.

"She's just being professional." I assumed, not really knowing.

"Why are you standing up for her, you don't even like her."

"I have to keep hope that she can help you."

He reached for his wine again, he seemed to be hiding behind it, occupying himself with it.

"We can talk about something else if it's making you uncomfortable." I suggested, taking a large swig of the alcoholic beverage myself. When he didn't respond, I decided, perhaps unwisely, to stick to the subject and press on. "Did you talk to Une? Did she make any specifications."

"She says I can't go back in the field while I'm still unstable. And that is up to Nettle to judge." He responded candidly. "She did offer me a desk job for the time being."

I smirked and bantered: "So she's actually giving you the job I always thought you already had." My joke fell flat, Heero seemed to shrink in his seat and I realized we were headed down the wrong road, traveling fasted than the speed limit. Still, I had to ask, for I had to know: "When Nettle clears you, do you want to be an active agent again?"

Heero looked at me intently. "What do you want?"

"I don't know. But it doesn't matter, you have to decide."

He gazed down at his plate, moving some of the pasta around with his fork. "I don't know either."

Silence fell between us like a brick being dropped on the table. In a desperate attempt to salvage the situation I mused aloud: "I'm curious to see how school will be tomorrow."

He must have picked up on my very unsubtle change of topic, but he went along with it. "Why?"

"Sookie and Aston are convinced things will go back to the way they were before Hunter came out. I guess to an extent I agree with them. They didn't all of a sudden sign up for PFLAG just because Hunter got honest about being on the down low, they just went along with it because he has their respect. Now that he has lost that respect, I guess it's reasonable to assume things will change, but I hope it will be a case of two steps forward, one step back, rather than vice versa." I halted when I noticed Heero's frown. "What?"

"Many things you've just said I don't understand... PFLAG? ... Down... low? Came out?"

I chuckled. "Never mind, it's not important."

He looked at me pointedly, like he had caught me in a lie. "It is important to you. I want to know."

"Okay," I started with a smile, "PFLAG is an organization that is supportive of the gay community and being on the down low means that your are secretly gay and coming out is a way of saying that someone got honest about his or her homosexuality."

He nodded, carefully registering all the information. He watched the waiter intently as he returned for another refill and once he had left, Heero curiously asked: "When did you come out?"

I shrugged. "I didn't. I didn't even know for sure I was gay till we started living together. When I realized that I was, wholeheartedly, gay," I winked at him, reveling in his openly surprised expression, "there was no one to come out to. Only Sookie but... she practically knew before I did."

"How did you come to realize it?" He innocently asked.

"I fell in love with you. I didn't know how to tell if I was gay or not, but I did know the symptoms of love... thinking about you constantly, never wanting to take my eyes off you, feeling complete just when you look at me, being electrified when you touch me..." I trailed on dreamily. "What about you?"

He considered my question for a long time, before answering: "I never really thought much about being gay or straight, I always saw myself as... asexual. I didn't feel those things you said for anyone." He frowned. "But now I do. For you."

I smiled in relief. "I'm glad."

"So I guess I'm gay." He said unsurely, as if he had just figured it out.

"I guess you are..." I paused for a moment, studying his features, but they were unreadable. "Does that bother you?"

His answer was immediate, but soft. "No." The was a shy, tiny small on his lips, barely visible as he tilted his head down to hide it and cover his eyes with his messy bangs. "I'm just happy to feel. Happy they couldn't take that away from me."

I reached out and gently took hold of his chin with my fingers, angling his face up to look at me. "And that makes you the strongest person I have ever met. You, not the soldier." I emphasized.

Heero let out a breathy, sheepish chuckle, one not of happiness but of nervousness.

Knowing that all I could do was convince him of what I thought of him and not what he thought of himself, I let the topic slide, but hoped the sympathetic look in my eyes communicated all he needed to know. Conversation was sustained as the evening progressed. I was mostly the one to talk, but Heero attentively listened and that was something in itself. I steered clear of the heavier topics, even as I realized along the way, that that didn't leave me with much to address. I discussed random nothings, infrequently provoking a reaction from him. After a while we didn't even stall the conversation anymore when the waiter came by our table for our refills.

The restaurant started emptying out, people dripping away in a steady pace. As I drank more, I became more talkative, as Heero drank more, he became - if possible - even more quiet and withdrawn. He appeared lost in the depth of his own thought, less and less interested in the interaction, as opposed to his behavior earlier. Maybe amongst the meaningless blabber, I had said something that got him thinking? Whatever the origin of his train of thought, it seemed to rampage through him uncontrollably and it overwhelmed him. Occasionally he looked over his shoulder, to watch yet another couple leave hand in hand and when he turned back he only looked more dazed.

I wondered if he was nervous or confused about certain expectations he thought I might have had concerning this date.

I touched his hand lightly and watched his glazed eyes focus on me. "Let's go home." I suggested. "You look... tired." Tired wasn't quite the word, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

He nodded and we both got up. I told him to wait by the door while I searched for our waiter to pay for our dinner with Heero's credit card, which had somehow found it's way into my wallet one day and Heero had never asked back for it. It would probably never cease to be uncomfortable to pay with the money Heero earned in relation to "The lie" - as I ominously referred it to - but I had accepted it as something I could not change, not yet, not while I was in school.

The waiter produced the check for me and I briefly glanced it over. I raised my eyebrows at the price of the wine, whistling. "You could have warned me about the wine." I said halfheartedly. "I didn't know it was that expensive."

"It wasn't." The waiter explained as he swiped the credit card. "You just had a lot of it."

I frowned. "I thought I only had three glasses." I mused aloud. I could feel the effect of the alcohol, but, after living with the Sweeper crew for long enough to know that they knew how to party, I wasn't anywhere near intoxicated. If I had had more, I would have known, I would have felt more. Or rather: less.

The waiter fought a smirk unsuccessfully. "You did, signore. However, you're partner," He nodded towards Heero standing at the door, bemused, "had six."

My eyes went wide and I pivoted on my heels to check back with Heero, make sure he was still standing up. Looking at him I would have never guessed, he stood straight and steady, even with his shot up knee, his arms were stiffly at his sides as they usually were and his gaze was trained on me. I turned back to the waiter and mouthed with apparent shock: "Six?"

He nodded.

How could I have not noticed that? I wondered. I was handed back the credit card and was wished a good night. The waiter even added a playful wink, he probably thought I was going to score tonight, but I was just worried Heero would end up getting really sick from the substantial amount of alcohol running through his system. A system that was not acquainted with the effects, nor accustomed with processing it.

"How are you feeling?" Is what I asked when I joined him at the door.

He frowned at me and attempted a glare, but it didn't have it's usual effect. "Why?"

I took him by the arm and escorted him out, hoping the cooled air of the night would do him some good. "Because apparently you had six glasses of wine over the course of dinner."

"So?" He muttered childishly.

"Heero, you're drunk!" I exclaimed.

"am Not. Besides, I thought that's what you do on dates." He replied, looking confused.

"No, getting wasted is generally not the goal."

"No. Sex is." He said dryly.

I stopped and turned him by the shoulders to face me. I looked down at him with a stern expression. "Heero, I know I said that and in some cases it's true, but that's not what I want, or what I was trying to get you to do. We are going to take things slow, till you are absolutely comfortable."

"It just doesn't fair that you always have to slow down for me and I can never speed up for you."

I sighed. "That's because it's easier to slow down. When you take things quicker than you can handle, you are going to run into boundaries you aren't ready to push yet." I ran my fingers through his tousled hair and held his head still at a tilt to lean down and kiss him. I tasted the red wine and his dinner, but it still managed to be erotic. I parted us and entwined our arms again, just in case he would lose his balance. Drunk Heero made no objections, which was amusing because sober Heero would be challenging me to a debate right now. Or a fist fight. "Come on, drunkie. Let's go home."

A few steps down the sidewalk and Heero commented. "My knee doesn't hurt anymore..."

I chuckled. "Don't think you've found the solution. You're going to regret this in the morning. Me too probably." I grumbled, knowing it would be my responsibility to clean up any possible mess that could be made.

Heero, who had obviously left quiet thinking for what it was, continued: "You said alcohol would make me feel more relaxed and normal... But I just feel weird."

"That's because instead of being happily buzzed, you are hammered."

"I don't know what that means."

"You do now. This is it, exhibit A: hammered."

"I can still walk fine though." He argued.

"Thank God, because I'm not carrying your drunk ass." I bantered.

Maybe it would have been better if I had carried him. Halfway home I became extremely aware of how our bodies rubbed against each other with each step we took. Our shoulders brushed together and our elbows and forearms swept across each other's side and stomach. The contact evoked memories of last night, having Heero stretched out on the couch, writhing underneath my fingertips. As we waited in the lobby for the elevator to descend Heero was less shy in creating more bodily contact that he normally was. Even though he needed no physical support, he held on to my arm, his thumb stroking in circles, which felt impossibly wonderful, even through the fabric of my shirt and leaned his cheek on shoulder. His breath was hot on my neck. A mantra resounded in my head: Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it. But my efforts were counter effective. My pants became tighter as I became increasingly aroused. What he was doing to me was sinful and he didn't even know he was doing it.

I pulled him into the elevator as soon as the doors opened. I tried to keep my distance, I didn't want to do anything that would even remotely resemble taking advantage of the situation. Heero searched for contact innocently, not knowing what effect he was having on me. When we reached our floor, I walked down the hall slowly and carefully, the constriction of my pants was excruciating. I made a mental note to never wear a pair this tight again a date with Heero. It was dangerous.

My fingers fumbled as they tried to open the door. My hand kept trembling as I swiped the electronic key through the slot which caused a misreading of the magnetic strip. "Fuck it." I cursed, starting my third attempt. I could not be blamed for the failure, with my hand at the lock, Heero all of a sudden inserted himself between me and the door, with an unfamiliar, wanton expression on his beautiful face. He placed his hands splayed on my chest and then trailed them up to wrap around my neck. He raised himself on the tips of his toes and pulled my head down a little so our lips would meet halfway. The fact that it was the first time he had truly initiated a kiss was quickly lost on me as I became a being driven by desires, needs and sensations alone.

Behind his back, my wrist sometimes brushing his rear, I still tried to work the lock. Finally there was the beep that I was waiting for and I pushed Heero back, through the door. We entered a pitch black apartment but I couldn't be bothered to switch on the lights. I pulled him back against me and then turned us around to pin him against the wall, kissing him hungrily. The position didn't seem to agree with him, his body started retreating, his hands disappearing and I distantly realized it could have something to do with the almost rape. But before I could pull away and ask him if he was okay, his strong arms worked to reverse the roles. I was pushed roughly against the doorpost, but the aching in my back was no competition for the throbbing heat down my front as he pressed his body flush against me.

I broke our passionate kiss and started licking and nibbling his ear and neck, my hands adoring his sides and back through his clothing. I could still feel every muscle and the heat of his skin through the thin fabric.

"I do indeed feel more relaxed now." He whispered, his hands grasping my braid and his lips running open-mouthed along the shell of my ear. Heero was completely absent, as was the soldier, but his body knew what it wanted and made no other pretences.

"Yeah?" I asked absentmindedly, my hands traveled down his spine and then strongly cupped his ass.

"Yeah."

I whimpered pathetically when he pulled back a little, I immediately felt cold without him pressed against me.

He brought his hands back to the front and placed one of them on my chest. He twisted his fingers, grabbing a fistful of fabric and tugged me away from the wall. I couldn't see his face in the dark but his voice echoed as he spoke: "Maybe I can speed things up a bit."

I should have said "no", I should have instantly stopped him at the reference to the exchange we had on the way home, but I was consumed by lust and my lips asked: "Are you sure?"

Instead of answering me he pulled on my shirt harder, dragging me along in the direction of the bedroom. The couch was closer but he seemed to favor a bed, his bed, to be specific.

We both kneeled on the bed and resumed our kissing as our hands explored, but nothing was unbuttoned. Feeling that he was completely relaxed, I pushed his shirt up with my hands and as the pads of my fingers ran up his back we both gasped at the contact. In addition I ground our hips together, we were both hard and the friction came as a relief, but paradoxically built up more pressure that sought release.

Driven by a burning need I scooted around him on my knees and settled behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist to pull him tight against my chest. From the new position I adored his elegant neck with kisses while my hands hungrily caressed his stomach, emboldened by the positive feedback in the form of soft pleasurable gasps I slipped my hands underneath his shirt. The feeling of our skin coming together was amazing. My devious hands then lowered and unbuckled his belt.

He let out a shaky breath, but unlike last time, he didn't signal that he wanted me to stop.

As I unbuttoned his pants and pushed the zipper down, I brought my lips close to his ear and asked suggestively: "Do you ever masturbate?"

A violent shudder went through him. He reached one hand up over my shoulder and grabbed my braid at the base. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips pressed tightly together. I barely registered his nod.

"What do you think about when you do?"

He bit his lip, his whole body became increasingly tense but I was insensitive to the difference between excited tension and uncomfortable tension.

"You."

I moaned at his admission.

"And then Taichi." Heero continued, his voice strained.

My hands froze down the front of his pants and my heart suddenly felt frost bitten, every beat was an aching pain in my chest.

The grip Heero had on my braid strengthened and the pull became increasingly painful as he became scared and frustrated. "I can't push him from my mind." He gritted through his teeth. "And then the feeling is gone and I just can't do it anymore."

My hands slipped from his body and my whole body slumped. I reached back to flick on the small light on our shared nightstand and then sat back on my calves. I rested my hands in my lap, covering the bulge, feeling embarrassed about my erection, now that the mood and the lust were gone and I realized we should have never gotten gone that far to begin with. I was overwhelmed with an intense feeling of sadness.

Heero slowly turned around to face me, but for a while I avoided eye contact, I needed a moment to compose myself and to hide the pity that I felt that he would surely not appreciate.

"Why did you stop?" He asked confused. "You asked me what I would think of."

"I know." I sighed. "I just wasn't prepared for that answer." Finally I dared to look him in the eyes, he seemed disappointed, just like I had burdened the date with false hope of a miraculous change in him, he had expected the sexual contact to drastically change him. "I can't touch you like that when you might be thinking of him."

"I wasn't thinking of him."

"You would have. It's good that we stopped before you did. Your body wants it, but your mind isn't ready." I sighed and then leaned in for a chaste kiss, hoping to let him know that this wouldn't change anything between us. "I don't want you to push yourself like this for me. I want to do this at your pace."

"I just wanted us to be more like a normal couple."

"Normal couples have sex when both people involved are ready." I explained gently, hoping not to hurt his feelings. "And when they both are, the sex is... special." I smiled at him.

"There must be something we can do that normal couples do." He mused, appearing determined not to end the night before taking one more step towards normality.

"We already do a lot of things. Love each other, kiss each other, eat together, live together..."

"Do couples sleep in separate beds?" His question sounded challenging.

I bit my lip. I couldn't lie, but I was unsure of the consequences of the truth. "No," I ventured, "they usually share a bed."

Without saying anything on the matter Heero suddenly got up. I curiously followed him with my eyes as he grabbed both sides of the nightstand and lifted it up.

"What are you doing?" I asked in surprise when he carried the piece of furniture away and the light and the alarm clock, still plugged into the wall socket, fell to the floor.

He didn't answer me. He placed the night stand at the opposite wall and then walked back. He bent over and hooked both hands under my bed and started dragging it away from the wall. The friction with the carpet made the bed heavy to move, but I was too confused and shocked to lend him a hand. When my bed had crossed half the distance that had once separated it from his, he turned around and reached for his bed, also pulling it away from the wall, with me still kneeling on the mattress, completely perplexed. With the bed distanced from the wall enough, he walked around it and pushed it the final few inches. I instinctively reached for the lamp and the alarm before they disappeared underneath our beds as they were joined together as one.

With the light and the alarm cradled in my arms I mumbled stupidly: "Heero?"

"This is normal, isn't it?" He made sure the bed were tightly against each other and then sat down on his half, looking at me expectantly.

"Heero, you don't have to do this."

"I want to." He blurted, surprising me further.

"Oh."

"Do you want me to put them back?" He asked bluntly, his face a blank mask, but his eyes still glazed from the alcohol.

"No, if you want it like this, who am I to object?" I joked, though I felt a bit unsure about the situation. I didn't know if he really wanted to join our bed together as a twin bed, or if he was just acting on the incentives created by the alcohol that clouded him. I rubbed my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. I realized I was tired and couldn't think straight, still processing the crazy evening. "Let's go sleep, okay?"

Heero agreed and we both changed wordlessly, moving around the room awkwardly, unfamiliar with the arrangement of the furniture. We found our way back to our designated sides and got into bed. I balanced the lamp and the alarm on top of the headboard, seeing as our night stand was across the room. As I lay down I was aware of him, so close to me. All I had to do was extend my arm and then my fingers would find him under the sheets. I looked over at him. Heero lay on his back, eyes staring up, inspecting a new piece of ceiling in his line of sight.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

Heero nodded, not looking at me.

"You're not nauseous?"

"No. I just don't feel like myself."

"Do you think that's a good thing?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe. I feel less... restrained." He frowned at his own choice of words.

"That's good I guess. But maybe next time therapy can help you with that, instead of alcohol." I smirked, but then became serious again. "I don't want you to be anyone other than yourself Heero, I just want you to be yourself, instead of the soldier, to be free to do what you want, not what your training dictates. Heero?" I asked when I noticed he had closed his eyes and was unresponsive.

There was only silence.

I leaned in closer to listen to his breathing, noting with a smile that in contrast with other nights, I could actually hear him, his breathing was accented by the slightest snore. He was fast asleep. I lay close to him for a little while, in spite of the discomfort of lying half on his bed, half on mine. The light just touched his face beautifully and added to the peaceful and innocent aura that had taken over him. With a sigh I rolled back onto my own bed and reached up for the light switch. The room went dark and I waited for my eyes to adjust. When shapes started to appear in the filtered moonlight, I looked at Heero again. He had turned on his side, facing away from me as he always did. I extended my arm and delved my finger into the dark pandemonium of his hair, partly draped over the light pillowcase.

My heart kept me awake as it soared and sank with my shifting thoughts. The night had been surreal and I didn't quite know what to feel. Eventually the powerful negative and positive emotions seemed to cancel each other out and I was just left feeling flat, empty and confused. My mind was too tired to continue to puzzle the pieces of Heero, myself and us together into a coherent picture. Everything was a disorganized mess of thoughts and feelings, snapshots of my life - our life. Stubborn Heero, Soldier Heero, Innocent Heero, Fun Heero, Frightened Heero, Drugged Heero, Drunk Heero, Horny Heero. His image was fragmented and the Real Heero appeared to be lost to both of us in the confusion. Were both of our expectations of who he was supposed to be reasonable? And could they be married together? I just wanted him to be himself, Heero just wanted to be normal, neither were definiable, just odd, abstract wishes. How can you achieve what

The pieces of the puzzle remained scattered.

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Chapter 29

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